


Sins of the Past

by Winter_Steele



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha Sebastian, Alpha Sebastian Moran, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alphas/Betas/Omegas are respected equally, Angst, Bad Dreams, Cameo appearances by other characters, Caring Sebastian, Devotion, Domestic Bliss, Drama, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Family Planning, Family Reunion, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Jim Moriarty, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Jim and Seb are a little bit older and mellower, Jim and Seb are deeply in love, Kidnapping, Love, Loving Husbands, M/M, Magpie and his Tiger, Married Life, Mpreg, My Omegaverse is different, My Omegaverse is kinder and gentler than most, Mystery, Nightmares, Nonstandard Omegaverse, OC villain - Freeform, Omega Jim, Omega Moriarty, Omegaverse - Freeform, Pregnancy, Protective Sebastian, Rescue Mission, Revenge, Romance, Stalking, Surprising Revelations, Takes place some years after Jim faked his own death, Terror, There will be a happy ending, True Love, consensual and loving relationship, happily married couple, happiness, mormor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-12 00:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 117
Words: 231,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14712368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_Steele/pseuds/Winter_Steele
Summary: Partners in love and crime, James Moriarty and his husband Sebastian Moran have been through a lot together. When their wedding anniversary coincides with Jim’s heat cycle, the mastermind decides that now is the right time for them to have a child. They have no trouble conceiving and are thrilled about their expanding family.All seems idyllic until a mysterious stalker begins a campaign of harassment against the couple. Who is this person and what do they want? Jim and Seb try to figure it out as the threats escalate. Meanwhile, they must also contend with the ups and downs of pregnancy.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on vacation celebrating their third wedding anniversary, Jim has something important to tell his husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.
> 
> Also, chapters will get longer as the story progresses.

“This week has been perfect,” Sebastian Moran said, his eyes gazing down to meet those of his lover’s. He held the other man close as they lay bare on a plush sheepskin rug, basking in the glow of a fire.

The past seven days were sublime— easily among the best in the sniper’s recent memory. From the outset, he and Jim had decided to commemorate their third wedding anniversary with a trip to the Cotswolds. It’d been far too long since they’d last stolen away together, just the two of them without interference from the rest of the world. Both agreed a vacation was in order.

Perhaps serendipitously, their excursion happened to coincide with the criminal mastermind’s heat cycle. Seb delighted at this, knowing how insatiable Jim would be during that time. His heats were the stuff of legend, full of passion, vigor, and primal need. The mere thought of it gave the blonde assassin a thrill.

Little did he know, his husband had even greater plans in store.  Sebastian would forever remember the conversation they’d shared their first night at the cottage…

 

_“Sebby,” Jim whispered as the larger man hovered above him in bed._

_"Yes?” he replied, placing nibbling kisses along his dearest Magpie’s neck and shoulder._

_“I want this week— this heat— to be about more than sex. I want…” he trailed off, sounding uncharacteristically bashful._

_“What is it, love?” Sebastian was slightly worried now. Jim was anything but shy. What could possibly cause him to become suddenly apprehensive?_

_“I want to have your baby.”_

_Oh, wow. Of all the things his partner might say, the former colonel never expected to hear that particular statement. He’d always hoped for a family of his own, but didn’t think Jim would ever welcome such a thing. Now, though…_

_The expression on his beloved’s face grew anxious as Seb had yet to respond._

_“If you don’t want—”_

_“I do,” he answered, hoping to assuage any inkling of doubt. “I adore you, Jimmy. Having a child with you would be a dream come true. An outright blessing.”_

_The madcap Irishman relaxed at his alpha’s words, a gentle smile replacing all previous tension. “So you understand, then, why this week is so important to me?”_

_Sebastian nodded. He understood…he understood completely._

_The next several days weren’t simply going to be dedicated to celebrating their bizarrely blissful union. No, they were going to revolve around something more historic than that: It would mark the turning point when James Moriarty— the world’s most brilliant consulting criminal— surrendered the last lock on his black heart. He was giving his husband the gift of conception, and in doing so, risked becoming more vulnerable than ever before. This was not an act to be taken lightly and both of them damn well knew it._

_“Oh, how I love you,” Seb declared, looking upon Jim almost reverently. What he felt for his mate surpassed the scope of an ordinary alpha/omega relationship. Their bond transcended the shackles of biology, joining them on a higher level. If soulmates existed, then their spirits were most assuredly intertwined._

“Tiger?” Jim called. “Earth to Tiger?”

Sebastian snapped back to the present at Moriarty’s provocation. “Sorry, I just got lost thinking about how wonderful this vacation has been.”

The genius smiled happily, his dark eyes twinkling with genuine joy. “Mmm, yes. One for the books, I’d say.”

Seb let out a breathless moan as the man in his arms ground against him libidinously. The sniper’s arousal quickly sprang to life at the sudden friction.

“We still have one final night here until we go back to London,” Jim reminded him. “Might as well make the most of it.”

Sebastian needed no further encouragement. In an instant, his lips were pressed to those of his darling Magpie’s, bidding entry into the other man’s mouth. The Irishman eagerly complied and their tongues twined together in a ravishing kiss. So much passion filled their fiery embrace, neither wanted it to end. Fortunately, it didn’t have to, at least not until the amber strands of daybreak shone through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	2. A Happy Couple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian returns home after an extended business trip. Jim is pleased to see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.
> 
> Also, chapters will get longer as the story progresses.

It was just after 3 a.m. when Sebastian walked through the entrance of the luxury residence he and Jim shared. Kicking off his boots, he sighed with relief that he was finally home. He’d spent the better part of the past two weeks abroad, seeing to various projects and loose ends. He hated being away from his husband for so long, but it was Jim who’d sent him on assignment. Married or not, Seb was undeniably the best sniper in his employ.  

“Jimmy?” he called out as he wandered toward the man’s office, knowing he often kept odd hours and would likely still be awake.

A light shined through the crack beneath the door, but no response was given.

Sebastian gently knocked. “Jim?” he beckoned once more, but again received nary a reply.

Deciding to step inside, the tall blonde was greeted to the sight of his spouse lying face down on his desk, snoozing away.  

He chuckled softly. “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Your prince has arrived.”

The mastermind stirred at the sound of his beloved’s voice. “Sebby, you’re home.”

“Sure am, hon,” he answered, moving to smooth down the mussed locks of Jim’s hair.

The smaller man hummed contentedly and leaned into his alpha’s touch.

“I take it someone missed me while I was gone?”

“Mmm, you know it.”

Seb grinned. He loved catching Jim in an affectionate mood.

“So how was the trip back?” the Irishman asked, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Long and uncomfortable.”

Jim frowned. “First class not up to par?”

The assassin shook his head. “Didn’t make it there. The flight was overbooked and I got bumped to coach,” he explained. “Ended up sandwiched between a portly old man and a teenage girl who wouldn’t shut up. No leg room to speak of, either…had one hell of a charley horse by the time we touched down in London.”

Anger bubbled into Jim’s eyes. “Those worthless bastards! I paid good money for you to fly first class, and this is the service I receive? Well, they can sod right off,” he fumed. “I’ll be sending them a message first thing in the morning. Heads will roll, Sebby, mark my words.”

“Relax, sweetie.” With James Moriarty, the threat of heads rolling could be literal. “Nobody needs to get hurt over this,” he spoke softly, trying to diffuse his husband’s rage. “An attendant at the airline assured me that the price would be refunded within the next few days. It’s taken care of— no need to get upset.”

Jim took a deep breath and stared at Sebastian. “It’s the principle of the thing. People cannot be allowed to disrespect us. I won’t abide it.”

“I know, Jimmy. But this was simply a case of an overbooked flight. It’s okay now. I promise you it is.”

As suddenly as it had ignited, the fire faded from the man’s expression. “Fine,” he huffed. “I’ll consider the matter resolved. But only because you insist, Seb. If it was anyone else…”

“I know and I appreciate it. Thank you, love”

The two remained silent for a moment, wordlessly enjoying each other’s company as the mad genius calmed.

Jim motioned to pick up a cup of tea that sat on his desk, his nose crinkling as soon as he took a sip. “Ugh. This stuff is terrible once it’s gone cold.”

“What is it?” he questioned, noting that the liquid gave off a rather pungent aroma.

“Herbal tea.”

Sebastian smiled at the notion of London’s most dangerous man drinking some sort of new age, hippie brew. “Personally, I’d just as soon stick with Earl Grey.”

“Yes, well, you’ve got a choice. I have other factors to consider,” Jim said. “Too much caffeine isn’t good for a tiger cub.”

The former colonel’s eyes widened at his husband’s declaration. “Jimmy, are you—”

“Pregnant? Don’t know,” he admitted. “But with the possibility there, I’d rather err on the side of caution.”

Seb leaned down and kissed the smaller man atop the head, inhaling as he did so. “I don’t know how I didn’t notice as soon as I came in,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Your smell is different. Not by much…it’s just slightly off.”

Moriarty shrugged. “I started using a new body wash earlier this week. It’s supposed to tighten the pores.”

“No, I think it’s more than that.” He paused, considering the prospect. “How’ve you been feeling lately?”

“Bloody exhausted, though I’m sure that much was obvious by the nap you walked in on.”  

“Yes, and it’s not like you. Magpie’s always abuzz, right?”

Jim quieted for a moment, knowing in his heart that Sebastian spoke the truth. Oftentimes he was manic, straddling the edge between genius and insanity. He was a man who dared darkness to come, then laughed as evil itself ran from him. James Moriarty was brilliant and brazen; fierce to a fault.

James Moriarty was not, however, tired.

_Tired._ The mere thought of it made him wince. Average people got tired, got worn down by the humdrum of day-to-day life. _Ordinary_ people. Not him. Never him.

“I’ll send for my doctor in the morning,” he said.

“Sounds good to me.”

Sebastian moved to stand behind his mate, massaging the man’s shoulders. He smiled as he felt him relax under the gentle ministrations.

“My Tiger,” Jim purred. “A born masseuse.”

“Well, if I ever retire, maybe I can find a second career in kinesiology,” he teased.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m the only one you’re allowed to touch like this. Nobody else.”

In a flash, Jim spun around in his chair and grasped Seb’s hand. “This palm, these fingers…they’re mine to command.”

The mastermind pressed Sebastian’s index and middle fingers to his lips, kissing them lightly before taking them into the warmth of his mouth. He sucked suggestively on the digits, a lustful look washing over him.  

The sniper swallowed. He _loved_ this about Jim. His spouse was no ordinary omega; no wilting flower beholden to the will of another. By all accounts, James Moriarty was more confident and in control than many alphas he knew.

“Oh, Jimmy,” the fair-haired man muttered with a groan. Two weeks he had missed this. Two long, sexless weeks.

Before another thought could cross his mind, Sebastian found himself acting on instinct, swiftly scooping Jim into his arms.

The smaller man rested his head against his husband’s chest. “Make love to me, Sebby.”

“With pleasure,” he declared, his voice thick with desire.

Seb whisked them away to the main bedroom. Neither would be getting much, if any, sleep tonight. Somehow, both parties were just fine with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	3. The Waiting Game/New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim meets with his personal physician to take a pregnancy test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas. 
> 
> Also, chapters will get longer as the story progresses.

It was 10 a.m. when Dr. Peter Ashton arrived at James Moriarty’s business headquarters. Under retainer, the physician always came to him, meeting on the mastermind’s premises rather than his own. Today was no exception.

Dr. Ashton was escorted to an empty office where Jim and Sebastian sat waiting. Though the pair were an intimidating sight, the man tried his best to be congenial, offering both a smile and a handshake before unpacking the contents of his medical bag. Once everything was properly assembled, he turned to face the men again.

“The procedure for this is fairly straightforward,” the doctor assured. “I extract a sample of Mr. Moriarty’s blood and have it sent to the lab. Your hormone levels,” he explained, eyes focused on Jim, “will determine whether the results are positive or negative. It should take about 48 hours to process.”

“Two days?” he grumbled. “I pay you a small fortune for your services and that’s the best you can do? I’d be better off using a home test.”

“You didn’t let me finish, sir,” Dr. Ashton countered. “The bloodwork requires two days to process, but if you’d like something more immediate, I also brought along the necessary tools to perform a urine test.”

Jim’s icy glare shifted into one of contemplation. “How much more immediate?”

“We could have those results within 10 minutes or so. It’s not as accurate, but it does provide a faster turnaround.”

“I want both tests done,” he asserted. “We’ll do the urine sample first.”

Dr. Ashton dared not keep him waiting. He quickly handed Moriarty a plastic cup and sent him in the direction of the nearest lavatory.

While Jim was out of the room, Sebastian stayed behind. An awkward silence settled over the room as neither he nor the physician spoke. The assassin couldn’t really blame the man for their lack of conversation. Ashton only knew him as Jim’s primary bodyguard. He had no idea they were actually married. It’d been a mutual decision not to make their union publically known. If the wrong people got wind of the information, they could very easily be targeted. They were, as Jim put it, each other’s “pressure points.”

It wasn’t long before the genius returned, sample in tow. The doctor got to work setting up a test strip, then prepared to take a vial of his patient’s blood. After that, all they could do was wait.

*********

_10 minutes._ Such a short amount of time, and yet it felt like an eternity as Jim and Sebastian sat there, eagerly anticipating the test results.

Seb played it cool, his face a steely façade of iron. His husband, though, was not as calm. The man nervously drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair and shot frequent glances at the clock on the wall. Jim was anxious as hell, a fact which seemed to unsettle the doctor.

Finally, the moment arrived.

Dr. Ashton carefully assessed the test strip, then returned to sit across from the formidable men.

Jim peered at him expectantly. “Well? What’s the verdict?”

The middle-aged physician swallowed, terrified of delivering what might be considered “bad news.”

“Mr. Moriarty, the results are positive. You’re pregnant.”

Jim’s eyes widened at the confirmation, a response Dr. Ashton sorely misread.

“I can schedule an appointment for termination as soon as possible, sir. I wouldn’t be the one performing the procedure, but I assure you’d be in good hands.”

Jim’s expression turned downright deadly as he lunged at his doctor, grabbing the man by the throat. The sheer force knocked him from his chair onto the floor, where Moriarty continued choking him.

“You want to murder my child before he even draws breath?” Jim spat. The fury surging through him was palpable.

Sebastian swiftly moved into action, pulling him off the man whose eyes were now bulging.

“Jimmy, stop!” he shouted, trying his damnedest to subdue his mate. Jim struggled fitfully before stilling in his arms.

“He wants to murder our baby! I won’t allow it!”

The fair-haired alpha took a deep breath. He knew what this was. Jim had a natural instinct to protect his young. 

“It’s okay, love. Nobody’s going to harm our little one,” he assured. “I think Dr. Ashton just misunderstood your wishes. He didn’t know you were trying to get pregnant.”

Hearing Seb’s statement, the physician blanched. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that James Moriarty, criminal extraordinaire, would seek to carry a child. Speaking of which…

“Mr. Moran here is the father?” he asked, finally gathering his bearings enough to stand.

Jim internally cringed at his own slip of the tongue. “You tell _no one_ ,” he warned. “If I find out you’ve said even the slightest thing about this, I will skiiiiiin you.”

“I took an oath to uphold doctor-patient confidentiality, sir. I would never betray that trust.”

“For your sake, you had better not,” the Irishman declared. “And yes, Sebastian is the father. It’s a fine match in the genetics department, if I do say so. My brains and his brawn combined.”

Seb couldn’t help but swell with pride at the thought of his and Jim’s child. _This is really happening. We’ve created a whole new person who’s a part of us both._ It was surreal and wondrous, and if he pondered it for too long, it just might blow his mind.

“Yes, a remarkable union if ever there was,” the physician nervously concurred.

Dr. Ashton was clearly shaken by what had transpired and wanted to conclude their meeting posthaste. There was still one last matter to discuss, though.

“In the best interests of you and your progeny, I’m going to refer you to a specialist. I know an excellent obstetrician who has experience with male omega pregnancies. She’s among the best in Europe.”

Jim paused, considering the idea. “Register the appointment under a pseudonym and text me the details,” he said coolly. “Now if it’s all the same to you, I think we’re quite done here.” Ashton did not disagree.

“Come, Sebby. A celebratory brunch is in order.”

Sebastian grinned and followed his mate out the door. In that moment, his heart was so alight with the notion of fatherhood, he thought it might burst. This was worthy of celebration and then some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	4. The Sonogram

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has his first sonogram.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.
> 
> Also, chapters will get longer as the story progresses.

“Honey, I know you don’t feel well, but if we don’t leave soon we’re going to be late.”

As if on cue, Sebastian heard the whoosh of a toilet flush, followed by the sight of his husband finally exiting their bathroom. Jim looked decidedly worse for wear. No surprise, though, considering the man had been retching for the better part of a half hour.

“They can bloody well hold our spot,” he grumbled. “If they give it away to someone else, I’ll have you bring the doctor here at gunpoint.”

Seb smirked. Coming from Jim, even if something sounded like a joke, there was at least a 50% chance he was serious.

“So long as we get a move on, I don’t think it will come to that.”

“Yes, well, it if does—” the consulting criminal abruptly stopped in mid-sentence, making a mad dash back to the loo.

_My poor Magpie._ Morning sickness was a normal part of pregnancy, but it seemed to have hit Jim especially hard. Seb could all too vividly recall an incident from earlier in the week that had given him quite a scare. Unable to keep down even a small packet of saltines, his mate succumbed to the throes of unconsciousness right there on the bathroom floor. The strapping assassin discovered him face down, clammy and incoherent. Thankfully, he regained his senses soon after being moved to the couch, but still, it was an image forever burned into Moran’s brain.

A few minutes passed and Jim reemerged. The Irishman appeared far more ragged than usual, having traded in his customary Westwood attire for jeans and a t-shirt. He hadn’t even bothered to slick back his hair, instead leaving it naturally tousled, reminding Seb of the time he masqueraded as Richard Brook.

“Better?” the blonde asked, pulling Jim into a protective embrace. He held him close, rubbing small circles against his back. Moriarty hummed appreciatively at the gesture. 

“I am now, Tiger.”

*********

Though Jim and Sebastian were nearly 10 minutes late, premier obstetrician Dr. Julia Swenson upheld their slot. The pair quickly felt reassured upon meeting her— she really did have impressive credentials and a strong background in her field. Once Jim was confident in the woman’s abilities, he admitted his and Seb’s true identities to her, knowing she would be his primary physician for the next nine months.

After getting the basics out of the way, it was time to proceed with the ultrasound. The mastermind was particularly excited, beaming like a child on Christmas morning. Thinking about it, Sebastian realized he hadn’t seen his husband so genuinely happy since their wedding day.

Jim laid back on the examination table and pushed his clothing out of the way, exposing his abdomen. The once flat expanse of his stomach now had a slight curve to it, which was somewhat unusual considering he was only 8 weeks along. Still, the doctor said it was nothing to be alarmed by.

“Ahh,” the dark-eyed man hissed as cold conductive jelly made contact with his skin.

“Sorry, that’s the unpleasant part of this process,” Dr. Swenson acknowledged as she pulled out a transducer. Placing the device on the slickened area, an image came up on the attached monitor.

“Oh my,” she said, looking at the screen.

Jim furrowed a brow. “What is it? Is something wrong?” He nervously glanced from her to Seb, and then back to her again.

“There’s nothing wrong,” she assured. “But I can see why you’ve been experiencing such intense morning sickness and why you’ve already got a bit of a baby bump.”

Moriarty and Moran peered at each other, curious as to what Dr. Swenson was getting at.

She smiled at the men. “Look closely. There are two sacs.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “Are you saying—”  

“That you’re having twins, yes.”

“Oh, Jimmy,” Sebastian exclaimed. He reached out to hold his husband’s hand, their fingers interlacing.  

“Are you sure?” the Irishman asked, seeing the picture on the screen but not entirely believing it.

“Very. There are definitely two sacs here, which means we’re likely dealing with fraternal twins. Both fetuses look healthy,” she noted. “Do you want to hear their heartbeat?”

“Yes,” Jim and Seb said simultaneously. They laughed at their synchronized timing, grinning like joyful fools over the news of their offspring.    

“Bear in mind that it’s still early, so the sound might be faint,” Dr. Swenson said as she turned up the volume on the medical equipment.

Suddenly, a gentle pulsing noise could be heard. It was just barely audible, but pumped steadily.

Jim’s breath hitched and he squeezed Sebastian’s hand. “Sebby…” he whispered, overwhelmed by emotion. It was a strange feeling for one who’d once derided sentiment as little more than inane fodder invented by the weak-willed. How far the world’s greatest consulting criminal had come since those days.

“In a few weeks it will be easier to detect. By then, you’ll be able to listen at home using a Doppler.”

“I’ll order one today,” Jim proclaimed. The sound of his babies’ beating hearts was the most brilliant thing he had ever heard. He’d listen to them every day if he could.

*********

The Magpie and his Tiger walked out of Dr. Swenson’s office arm-in-arm. They were all smiles, drunk on love for each other and for the new lives blossoming within Jim. It was a perfect portrait of bliss.

One man, however, did not appear pleased. Camouflaged in a dark hat, coat, and sunglasses, he surreptitiously peered at the pair while pretending to read something on his phone. He snorted after watching them exit, lips curling into a sneer.

“Found you, Moran.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	5. The Joys of Domesticity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian indulge in a bit of domestic bliss. Also, Seb goes shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Two weeks had passed since Jim’s fateful appointment with the obstetrician. In that time, he’d struggled to split his interests between work and baby preparations. Even with Sebastian’s help, there just didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day to manage it all.

Ultimately, he decided to tell his staff that he had a “special project” to attend to— one which would keep him away from the office at odd intervals. Those on his payroll needed no further explanation. Anyone who dared press Moriarty for more details wouldn’t live long enough to make the mistake again.

“Seb, what do you think of these swatches?” the mastermind asked his spouse. An array of color samples lay on the kitchen table, spread out in no particular order.

“They all look fine to me.”

“Come on, I want you to be a part of this. It’s for the babies.”

“I trust your good taste.”

And he really did. It was Jim, after all, who’d wanted to start planning the nursery as soon as they learned they were having twins. Straightaway, he was on the phone making arrangements, and within days, a decorator from New York stood at their door. Sworn to secrecy about the assignment, the woman had been sending over sample upon sample for absolutely everything. Frankly, the sniper was out of his element with this stuff, but Jim reveled in it.

Jim’s stomach growled loudly, interrupting their conversation on interior design. Sebastian was grateful for the reprieve.

“Sebby…” the dark-eyed genius spoke, gazing longingly at the other man.

Seb knew what he wanted.

_Oatmeal._

The former colonel got up and began to prepare a hot, wholesome bowl of oats for his husband. It didn’t take much time to cook, and before long he was dishing it out to place in front of the hungry Irishman.

“Thank you, Tiger.”

Sebastian leaned down to steal a kiss from him. It was little moments like these that he treasured.

Jim devoured his oatmeal like it was manna from the heavens. Seb smiled at the sight, pleased that after several weeks of brutal morning sickness, his partner had finally found a food he could keep down.

It’d been no easy feat. Everything seemed to make Moriarty nauseous, even certain smells. The constant illness left him drained and he was concerned for the wellbeing of their unborn children. His research on twin pregnancy recommended consuming an extra 600 calories a day, but he simply couldn’t eat anything without throwing it back up. It was very discouraging.

Then one auspicious day, it all changed. Sebastian had made himself a bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar while Jim rested on the couch. The scent wafted through the air, and for the first time in ages, the consulting criminal found a food smell downright enticing. This was a huge development.

Testing the waters, he took a taste. One spoonful turned into another and another, until eventually he consumed the entire bowl. Even better was when, an hour later, he still felt okay. No retching or heaving to be had. It was remarkable. Ever since that breakthrough, Jim ate oatmeal on a daily basis, sometimes indulging in seconds or thirds.     

“That’s the last of it,” Sebastian said. “I’ll run out for more soon.”

Finishing the final bite, Jim leaned back in his chair and yawned. “I appreciate it, Seb. Think I might take a nap while you’re gone.”

The blonde man smiled. He loved this; loved taking care of Jim. Never in a million years did he believe he’d find domesticity so rewarding, but something about it just felt right. His Magpie was the light of his life, and now with the babies on the way, his once dark heart threatened to overflow with joy. True happiness had found Sebastian Moran at last.

*********

Seb had a plan. After some light grocery shopping, he would pick up a surprise gift for his husband. The sniper was never very good at selecting presents, but this time he knew he wanted it to be a high-end item. The illustrious James Moriarty deserved only the best. 

He drove around London for a bit, trying to decide on a shop. Finally, he came upon _Rolex Boutique._ Something about the place called to him. It was perfect.

Stepping inside, he approached a large glass display case containing a selection of finely crafted timepieces. There were so many to choose from, Sebastian wasn’t sure where to begin. Thankfully, a clerk soon approached.

“Hello, sir. May I help you find anything?” the posh young assistant asked. His nametag read _Tom._

“Yes, perhaps. I’m looking to surprise someone.”

“Very good. Our quality watches make for an excellent choice of gift. Is there a particular model you had in mind?”

“Not really, but…” he paused, considering it. If he could, he’d like to find something that included his impending children’s birthstone— amethyst.

“Do you have any products that feature gemstones?”

“Certainly, sir. We offer a number of timepieces accented with diamonds. We also carry items featuring ruby and emerald stones.”

“What about amethyst?”

Suddenly, an elderly man standing nearby began to chuckle. The eavesdropper was apparently getting a good laugh out of their conversation, much to Seb’s chagrin.

“Something funny?” the assassin demanded, turning his attention to the nosy old codger.

“Oh, yes,” he asserted. “Coming in here asking for an amethyst Rolex. That’s bloody hilarious.”

“And why is that?” Sebastian pressed. He was growing increasingly irritated.

“They don’t make amethyst Rolexes— never have,” the man said as if it was common knowledge. “You must be new money. Either that or someone’s well-kept rent boy.”

This was too much for Moran to take. With one swift step, he bridged the gap between himself and the mouthy old man.

“Listen here, I’m no one’s ‘rent boy.’ In fact, I’m very happily married,” he informed him. “My money’s just as good as yours, and I don’t appreciate the snide remarks. So what if I’ve never bought a Rolex before? It’s not your business.”

Sebastian struggled to be as polite as possible under the circumstance. The last thing he needed was to be thrown out of an upscale shop on Bond Street. If that happened, he’d never hear the end of it from Jim.  

Tom, the clerk, stepped between the two men. “Please, gentlemen, let’s not make a scene.” Glaring, both backed away from each other.

“This is disgraceful. The quality of your clientele has gone alarmingly downhill,” the elder spat before storming out.

_Good riddance,_ Seb thought.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I swear to you, our customers are usually far more courteous than that. Please don’t let him ruin your first experience with us.”

“I won’t,” he assured. “Not your fault some people make arses of themselves.”

“Indeed, sir.” Tom smiled in relief that he had not lost a sale over the conflict. “Now, where were we?” he queried, hoping to steer the conversation back on topic.

“I wanted to buy a watch that incorporated amethyst into the design. However, I’ve since been made aware that those don’t exist.”

“While it’s true we do not currently offer amethyst accented timepieces, we do have some models which feature a purple dial. It’s not a gemstone, but the color is comparable. Would you be interested in seeing those?”

Sebastian was pleasantly surprised. A purple dial wasn’t what he’d initially set out to buy, but he reckoned it was worth a look. Nodding to the affirmative, the clerk led him to another display.

“As you can see, we have an assortment to choose from. Please note that most of these are a part of our women’s collection. We do offer one unisex model, though.” 

“Show me,” he commanded.

Tom walked behind the counter and unlocked the case, removing a specific watch. He cradled the item in his hands, presenting it to Sebastian.

“This is made from stainless steel and features a grape dial. It’s scratch resistant and waterproof. It’s a wonderful style that combines both elegance and practicality.”

Seb keenly examined the timepiece, imagining what it would look like on Jim. The man did strive to be fashionable.

“I’ll take it,” he decided. “I’d like it giftwrapped as well.”

“As you wish, sir. I’ll have it ready in a jiff.”

Sebastian smiled, feeling content. He couldn’t wait to see his Magpie’s reaction to the gift. _Jim is going to love it._

*********

A slight breeze carried through the air as Seb walked to his car, package in hand. His cheerful mood was cut woefully short by the unsettling sight that greeted him: a knife stuck through one of the back tires, rendering it flat.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed, crouching down to inspect the damage. The weapon piercing through the rubber was fairly nondescript— it was a plain looking blade without any distinguishing details. It could’ve been bought and wielded by anyone.

For a moment, he wondered if the ornery old man from the shop might’ve done it, but he wouldn’t have known which vehicle was Sebastian’s. So what did it mean? Was it just a random act of vandalism?

Then the sniper noticed something. There was a note wadded up and stuck under his windshield wiper. He hadn’t seen it at first because his attention went straight to the speared tire.

Unfolding the note, a chill ran down Seb’s spine as he read what it said: _See you soon._

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	6. Keeping Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In response to a threat, Sebastian tries to protect Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian Moran was on edge. It’d been a week since his tire was slashed outside the jewelry store, and in that short amount of time, paranoia set in. He couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling of being watched. Home was still safe, thank god, but at work and on the streets…that was another story entirely.

Twice while on assignment, he sensed invisible eyes fixing upon him. The presence lingered like a predator shadowing its prey. He checked his surroundings for signs of a pursuer, but it was to no avail. If someone was actually there, they remained well hidden.

So far, Seb had managed to keep Jim shielded from what was going on. He’d passed the vandalism incident off as a standard flat tire mishap, neglecting to mention that it was quite obviously an act of malice. News of the ominous note, too, was omitted. He wondered how long he’d be able to keep these things from his husband. Moriarty was, by all accounts, perceptive to a fault.

“Sebbbby,” a familiar sing-song voice called out from the kitchen. “Be a dear and fetch me the newspaper.”

“Sure, Jim.” The sniper headed for the door, knowing how much his mate enjoyed reading _The Daily Telegraph_ while feasting on his morning oatmeal.

Bending down to pick up the periodical, Sebastian’s blood ran cold when he spied a folded up piece of paper tucked under the doormat.

_No, no, no! Not another one._ He took a deep breath and carefully opened the note.

_‘People like you don’t deserve to have families.’_

“Oh fuck,” he muttered too softly for Jim to hear.

This was worse than he thought. It meant that the stalker knew where he lived, and by association, where Jim and their unborn children resided as well.

For the first time in a very long while, the ordinarily unshakeable assassin was really and truly afraid.

*********

“No, two extra guards aren’t enough!” Seb barked into his phone. “I want at least a dozen men added to Mr. Moriarty’s security detail. Some of them will be posted at his office, some at home, and a few will remain on reserve to accompany him during offsite excursions. Do I make myself clear? Good.”

Sebastian ended the call with a weary sigh. It was difficult getting Jim’s underlings to comprehend why their boss needed increased security right now. He couldn’t exactly tell them the truth of the matter. Additionally, some individuals were reluctant to greenlight any orders that didn’t come from the consulting criminal himself. Seb had to remind them that as second-in-command, they had damn well better respect his authority.

After doing what he could to beef up Jim’s protection, the sniper’s next move was to find out who, precisely, was behind the campaign of harassment. Both he and his better half had acquired a slew of enemies through the years. With that in mind, it left the list of suspects wide open.

Whoever was responsible knew that he and the mastermind were a family. This aspect forced Sebastian to consider the terrible possibility that the culprit might be someone who knew them outside of their on-the-job activities.

_‘People like you,’_ the note had said. Taken at face value, the statement could be referring to the fact that they were criminals. But what if…

Sebastian growled, growing angry at the thought that ran through his mind. _What if the person is some bigot who heard that a gay couple was having children?_

At this point, he couldn’t rule it out. Maybe the decorator Jim hired had let something slip that she shouldn’t have. Or perhaps someone at the obstetrics clinic had seen them and figured it out. They’d taken Seb’s car that day— maybe they were tracked. The unfortunate truth was that, as of right now, he just plain didn’t know what he was dealing with.

He hated the uncertainty. Hated that some son of a bitch dared to threaten them. But most of all, he hated not being sure of how to best protect Jim. Protect the madcap Irishman who was his husband, his friend, his boss, his precious omega who was carrying his children. James Moriarty was everything to him.

_Whoever is behind this will pay dearly._ That was a promise.

*********

Seb had just gotten out of a meeting to coordinate an upcoming mission when his cell phone went off. Checking the device, he saw that it was a text from Jim.

_JM_

_Sebby, darling? My office NOW._

 

He furrowed a brow. A message like that could mean one of two things: (1.) Jim was pissed, or (2.) Jim’s morning sickness had alleviated enough that he was finally feeling frisky again. Personally, Sebastian was hoping for the latter.

As directed, he entered Moriarty’s office, shutting the door behind him. He could already tell by the icy look on Jim’s face that he hadn’t been summoned for a shag.

“Something the matter?” Seb asked, sporting a sweet sharky smile he knew Jim found endearing.

“Don’t think you can get out of this by flashing me a sexy grin,” the dark-eyed genius spoke, almost as if he could read the other man’s mind. “Sit.”

Sebastian obeyed.

“Good boy,” he mockingly praised. “Now you’re going to tell me why, as of today, you gave the order to triple my security detail.”

“Well, uh, you see…” the sniper trailed off, at a loss as to how to explain the situation. He’d dreaded this moment since the whole mess began.

“Please, do go on. I’d love to know the reason why I can’t visit the loo without having someone wait for me outside the restroom. Or better yet, why I can’t even stop by the café across the street without being trailed by a guard.”

“Café?” the blonde asked in surprise. “I thought you quit drinking coffee. Too much caffeine, remember?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “I ordered hot chocolate— the caffeine in it is negligible. Now don’t change the subject.”

“Fine,” he conceded. “It’s for your own safety,”

Moriarty snorted incredulously. “My safety? I’m pregnant, Seb, not made of glass.”

“There’s more to it than that. Recent events have led me to believe someone may try to harm you.” Just saying the words out loud made Sebastian’s heart ache.

“What recent events? You work for _me_ ,” Jim stressed. “Why have I not been made aware of these developments?”

It was a fair question, and one that the former colonel had mulled over at length. He should’ve been honest with his partner from the start. James Moriarty deserved better than the sin of omission.

And so Sebastian told him everything. He admitted the truth of how he really got the flat tire and informed him of the notes that had been left. By the end of his rambling confession, the sniper was showering his husband and boss with a flurry of apologies.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I wasn’t trying to deceive you for any malicious purpose. I swear on my life, I wasn’t. I just…” Seb paused, his composure waning. “It’s like you always used to say about ‘pressure points.’ Everyone has someone they want to protect.” He cast his sight downward, ashamed to look Jim in the eye.

The consulting criminal moved from behind his desk to meet Sebastian where he sat. He placed a hand under the larger man’s chin, tilting his face up.

“Hey, look at me, Tiger.”

And Seb did. Their gazes locked intently.

“Make no mistake,” Jim declared, “I do not tolerate deception from anyone, even you. Try it again and there will be consequences.” He took a breath and his sharp expression softened. “In this case, however, I understand why you did it.”

Jim shifted his hand from Sebastian’s chin to his cheek, stroking the slightly stubbled expanse of skin. The assassin leaned into his lover’s touch.

“You don’t need to worry about this anymore. I’ll find out who’s behind the threats and then I’ll send you to kill them. Perhaps I’ll even accompany you for the proceedings,” he said, grinning wickedly.

Seb didn’t reply with words, instead choosing a more visceral means of communication. He wrapped his arms around the man he adored, resting his head against Jim’s waist. If he could, he would stay that way forever, bound in his Magpie’s embrace.      

         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	7. Love & Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decorating, lovemaking, and terror abound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Careful!” Jim shouted. “That cot costs more than you make in a day. I’d sooner have you replaced than it.”

The delivery man took Moriarty’s criticism in stride, knowing better than to argue with a customer, especially one who’d bought such expensive furnishings. Thankfully, this was the last piece he had to unload.

“Sorry, sir,” he politely replied, keeping his head down as he finished positioning the second canopy crib. “That’s the final item. Please enjoy your purchase.”

The man exited the room and headed for the front door. As soon as he was gone, Jim turned to Sebastian.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” he asked, positively radiating with delight.

Today marked a milestone in the decorating process. Jim and his interior designer decided on a pastel color palette for the nursery and many of the luxury furniture items they’d ordered had arrived. Everything was so opulent and elegant— even the matching white canopy cribs were accented with 24-carat gold.

“It’s a room fit for royalty,” Seb affirmed.

“Oh Sebby, that’s exactly what I was trying to achieve. I want nothing but the best for our little princes…or princesses,” he eagerly declared. “I just wish I knew their genders already. Then I could tailor the accessories better.”

“We’ll find out soon, kitten,” the sniper assured. At Jim’s last checkup, Dr. Swenson said it was still too early to know for sure. In two weeks’ time they’d be able to make a more accurate determination.

“You know how much I hate waiting for things,” the Irishman bemoaned. “But,” he paused, pressing himself suggestively against Sebastian’s firm, muscular frame, “I can think of a few ways to occupy myself until then.”

Excitement rocketed through the blonde assassin as he felt his husband’s body molded to his own. Not since the earliest stages of Jim’s pregnancy had the man expressed any real signs of sexual interest. The nonstop morning sickness had put a kibosh on that aspect of their relationship. Did something change? Dare he dream?

“You sure you’re up to it?” Seb immediately lamented his choice of words as he quite literally felt just how _up_ Jim was.

“I think you know the answer to that one, Tiger.” He grinned impishly, his sheathed arousal rubbing against the matching hardness that had sprung to life in Sebastian’s pants.

The former colonel growled lustfully, seizing Jim’s mouth in a passionate kiss.

“That’s more like it,” the smaller man proclaimed. “Right now I’m feeling better than I have in months and I intend to make the most of it.”

Seb didn’t need to be told twice. If Jim wanted sex, he would get it.

*********

Afternoon turned to evening as the two most dangerous men in London surrendered unto their desires. Jim was downright indefatigable, almost daring his mate to keep up. Sebastian hadn’t seen him this hot and bothered since the last time he was in heat. It was spectacular. 

“God, I’ve missed this,” the mastermind cooed. He nestled beside Seb as closely as he could, savoring the man’s warm embrace.

“Me, too.” He hugged his Magpie tighter, not wanting to let go. If he could just keep him like this, safe in his arms, then maybe everything would be okay. Maybe the worry that gnawed at him day-in and day-out would subside.

Oh, how Sebastian worried. They never found out who was stalking them. All intel proved fruitless, leading to nothing but dead ends. Jim shrugged it off, not treating the matter very seriously. He even let go of the extra guards Seb hired, insisting they weren’t necessary.

Moriarty theorized that their harasser was simply some low-level thug hoping to rattle them in order to make a name for himself. The mysterious individual had not struck again since the note under the doormat, further convincing Jim that the culprit was an amateur who got cold feet and gave up. Seb, however, was not fully convinced.

The intrepid sniper had a bad feeling about the situation. His instincts as a hunter and as an alpha told him to beware; told him not to become complacent. This period of inactivity from the stalker might be a calculated maneuver. A trick intended to lull them into a false sense of security. It could mean—

“Tiger,” Jim spoke, derailing the fair-haired man’s train of thought. “Would you like to hear the babies?”

“Yeah, Jimmy. I’d love to.”

The Irishman sat up and retrieved a handheld Doppler from the nightstand, along with a tube of ultrasound gel. He applied the viscous substance to his abdomen and turned on the device.

Sebastian watched in awe. “You’re an old pro at this,” he teased. In a manner of speaking, it was actually true. Jim made a point of listening to the babies every night, no matter how busy he was with other things. It was his way of bonding with them.

“Some people don’t know how to use these devices properly. _Ordinary_ people,” he remarked disdainfully as he slid the transducer across the gelled area. Right then, a fast-paced thumping sound broadcast through the speaker. “I am anything but ordinary,” Jim said with a smirk.    

Seb chuckled. “That’s for damn sure.”

The couple listened in silence for a few seconds, enjoying the strong rhythm of their children’s hearts.

“Is it my imagination or do I hear an echo?” Sebastian asked.

“Of course there’s an echo— we’re having twins. Two heartbeats, Tiger.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s true.” The former colonel felt a bit stupid for having questioned something so obvious.

If Jim was at all fazed by his husband’s gaffe, he didn’t show it. Pure, undiluted happiness was the only thing that registered on his face.

“Sebby, I love these babies so much,” he confessed, his voice steeped with emotion. “There was a time when I thought children would be a burden…a liability unworthy of my effort. But you changed my mind. Made me want to have a tiger cub who’d embody the best of us both.” He clasped his mate’s hand, looking deep into his blue eyes. “Thank you, Sebastian.”

The consulting criminal’s mood must have been contagious, because Seb found himself struggling to hold back a tear. He’d never adored Jim more than at that moment. The feeling was entirely mutual.  

*********

Morning came quicker than Moriarty and Moran would’ve liked. They decided to get an early jump on the day in preparation for an 8 a.m. meeting where both would be in attendance. After a hot shower to wake themselves up, they dressed and shared breakfast together.

Jim glanced at the wristwatch Seb had given him, checking the time. “We should get going soon,” he stated.

The taller man nodded, finishing his last bite of bacon before grabbing the car keys. “Your chariot awaits, my lord.”

Moriarty laughed, smiling brightly. That was something the mastermind did a lot lately, and Sebastian was glad for it. He wished he could bottle this version of Jim— make it so that his husband remained in high spirits forever.

*********

The consulting criminal and his sniper were the first to arrive at Jim’s headquarters. Even his longtime personal secretary, Suzy, had not yet come in. The duo didn’t mind being alone— in fact, they’d half-jokingly discussed the merits of having a quickie in Jim’s office during the car ride over.

“Let’s hold off until after the meeting, Tiger. I’ve got a few hours free this afternoon,” he said with a seductive lilt.

Seb grunted hoarsely. “You know that’s all I’m going to be thinking about now, right? While everyone’s talking business, I’ll be sitting there picturing you spread across your desk wearing nothing but a smile.”

“Ooh, honey, I love your imagination.”

Jim turned to unlock his office door and Sebastian followed. Flipping on the lights, both were utterly horrified by the sight that greeted them: a baby doll hanging from a noose off the ceiling fan. A sonogram photo was tacked to its body… _Jim’s_ sonogram, from his last appointment with Dr. Swenson.

The dark-eyed genius began to hyperventilate, his vision growing blurry as he collapsed to the floor.

“Jim!” Sebastian exclaimed, rushing to his husband’s aid. He lifted him into his strong arms and laid him on a nearby couch.

“S-s-s-Sebby,” he panted, struggling to speak through the panic.

“I’m right here, Magpie.” The assassin held the Irishman’s hand as he tried to calm him down. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe with me.”

“The…the…the picture.”

“I know, Jimmy, I know. But the sick fuck who staged this isn’t here right now. It’s just us.” Sebastian prayed that was true. The last thing he needed was an early morning melee, especially with Jim in such an upset state.

Moriarty took deep breaths, trying to regain some semblance of composure. Despite what was going on, he still had a meeting to host within an hour’s time. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this.  

“Sebby, we’re going straight home after the conference. I need to know if the house has been breached. I need to check…”

He didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to say that he needed to check the baby book he’d been keeping since his first ultrasound. He had to see if the last photo was stolen from it.

“Of course, Jimmy.” Seb knew what Jim was thinking. And if it was true— if there was proof someone had been in their home— then god have mercy on the perpetrator’s soul, because London’s most dangerous men would not.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	8. Hidden Talents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is stressed and Sebastian convinces him to take some time off. At home, the mastermind experiments with hidden talents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

After finding the macabre hanging doll display in Jim’s office, he and Sebastian redoubled their efforts to track down the stalker. As feared, the sonogram photo that was used had indeed been stolen from Moriarty’s scrapbook. Once it was confirmed, the couple temporarily vacated their home and brought in a team to sweep the place for covert devices. A thorough search found no evidence of bugging, but the men were unnerved just the same. For added peace of mind, locks were changed, security cameras were installed at the front and rear of the house, and a rotation of guards were assigned to surveil their home from the street.

Meanwhile, Jim spearheaded an investigation into how someone was able to break into his business headquarters. According to timestamps on the security footage, power had been cut for approximately 20 minutes. No one could explain exactly what caused the outage. The only thing they knew for sure was that no other buildings were affected— this was specific to their location.

Jim was truly frazzled. Either someone he trusted was in on the plot, or someone outside of his staff had found a way to hack into their system. Both options were awful. It was a collective clusterfuck that led him no closer to learning the identity of the stalker than before.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

Sebastian hurried into Jim’s office, hearing a series of loud banging noises. What he discovered inside was his husband kicking the ever-loving shit out of a filing cabinet. The metal plating actually had dents in it.

“Whatever that cabinet did to piss you off, I think it’s learned its lesson,” the sniper joked, trying to ease Jim’s mood.

“Tiger.” The Irishman sighed heavily, a jumbled mess of nerves and frustration.

Seb approached his spouse, encircling his arms around him in a gentle hug. Jim responded keenly, gripping the former colonel as if he were a life preserver in the middle of a raucous sea.

“Why can’t I figure out who’s after us?” he asked, sounding equal parts exasperated and afraid. “You know who gets stalked? _Ordinary_ people, Seb. _Boring_ people, too stupid for the hunt. _They_ become prey. Not _me._ I’m too clever for it…or at least I used to be.”

Sebastian held Moriarty close. It broke his heart to see him so distraught. Pregnancy hormones and situational stress were a vicious combination.

“Jim,” the blonde assassin spoke, “I want to take you away from here.”

“Well, I was planning to call it a day after lunch. We could grab a bite and then go home together if you’d like.”

“No, I mean I want to take you out of this city. Leave London and go someplace else. Get away from everyone until the babies are born.”

Jim backed away, glaring angrily. “You want me to give up! You want me to turn tail and run. Let this bastard win.”

“What I want is for you to be safe. You’re my priority.” He took a step towards Jim, laying an outstretched hand on the small swell of his stomach. “All I care about is you and our little ones…our tiger cubs.”

That did it. The consulting criminal could take no more. His breathing grew heavy as he threw himself back into Sebastian’s embrace. Resting his head against the taller man, he closed his eyes. It was all he could do not to cry. Tears weren’t something Moriarty permitted, even when it was just the two of them.   

“My worst fears are coming true, Sebby. I used to think no one would ever get to me. Now it feels like everyone and everything is getting to me,” he confessed. “I can’t bear it.”

“Jimmy, why don’t you take some time off? You can oversee business operations from home while you decompress.”

“Me, decompress? I’m not sure I’d know how.”

“I’ve heard yoga’s good for relaxation,” Sebastian noted. “Meditation, as well.”

Jim laughed. “Can you picture me doing either of those things? I mean really, Seb.”

“You are rather flexible,” the assassin teased.

“Not so much these days. I’m a bit thicker around the middle than I used to be.”

Seb grinned. “I love the reason why.”

The madcap omega looked up at his gorgeous mate, a genuine smile dancing across his lips. “You know what? I do, too.”

*********

Jim decided to take Sebastian’s advice and work from home. It had only been a few days, but so far, so good. The business dealings were the easy part. What proved more difficult was finding an outlet for his stress.

Moriarty’s mind raced at a breakneck pace. Attempts at meditation were futile. He’d also explored other potentially relaxing activities such as painting, piano playing, and even knitting. None provided the release he so desperately sought after, though he had managed to craft an adorable set of booties for the twins.

There was still one more endeavor he wanted to try. He’d gotten the idea for it while watching, of all things, a segment on morning television. If nothing else, it would be fun for a lark.            

Jim smirked at the thought. He’d do it…and Seb would be his guinea pig.  

*********

Sebastian Moran, sniper extraordinaire, walked through the front door of his home after a hard day on the job. Upon entry, he was immediately bombarded by a sweet and sumptuous smell. Curiosity compelled him to follow the scent trail. The aroma grew stronger and more pervasive, until finally, he reached the kitchen. What he saw was astonishing.

The countertops were covered by a veritable smorgasbord of baked goods. Cookies, cupcakes, tortes, and pies sat everywhere. It was a display worthy of any gourmet pastry shop.

“Surpriiiise!” Jim sang out, sneaking up from behind the fair-haired man.

“It sure is. You’ve been a busy boy.”

Moriarty shrugged. “You mean this?” he said nonchalantly, motioning to the assortment of confectioneries that surrounded them. “It’s just a little something to help work out my stress. No big deal.”

“No big deal? It looks like you’re ready to cater a gala event.”

“Hmm, well, maybe I did go a _teensy_ bit overboard,” he cheekily admitted. “How would you like to take a taste?”

“Do you even have to ask? It’s taking great restraint not to devour everything in sight.”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “ _Everything?_ Oh my. All in good time, Tiger. Let’s concentrate on the desserts for now, shall we?”

“But of course,” Seb said with a chuckle. His Magpie was a shameless flirt and he loved him for it.

“What would you like to sample first?”

“You’re the baker. What do you recommend?”

The genius thought about it for a moment, then turned to select a cookie from off a silver platter. “I had you in mind when I made this one.”

“Oh? In that case, I’m sure it will be the best of the bunch.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Just eat it.”

Sebastian did as told. A rich blend of flavors came together in his mouth, combining to form one of the most delectable treats he’d ever had the privilege of tasting.

“God, this is amazing. What is it?”

“Oatmeal-chocolate chip almond,” he replied. “After all the times you made me oatmeal these past few months, I figured I owed you a bit of the stuff.”

“Jimmy,” he whispered, “that’s an incredibly thoughtful gesture.” He reached out to stroke the Irishman’s cheek. “Thank you, love.”

Moriarty flushed a little. “It’s just a cookie, is all.” But they both knew that wasn’t true. The sentiment behind it spoke volumes.

“Ready to try something else?” Jim asked. He was quick to change the subject for fear of becoming too emotional.

“I’d love to.”

At that, the mastermind picked out an especially decadent chocolate cupcake. “I consider this among my finest baking achievements. It’s devil’s food with fudge frosting.”

Seb eagerly bit into the dessert, grunting in approval at first taste. “You’ve outdone yourself, Jim. This is fucking fantastic.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he quipped.

“You can say that again. All these years together and I never knew you were a pastry chef in disguise.”

“You flatter me, Sebastian. Baking isn’t so difficult. It’s mostly just chemistry.” 

“Well, whatever the secret is, you’ve mastered it.” He paused, mulling over an idea. “I’ve got a proposition for you, Jimmy.”

The smaller man was intrigued. “Do tell.”

“I want you to make my birthday cake. I know it’s not for another few months, but when the time comes, I want it to be one of your creations. A James Moriarty original.”

“Really? You wouldn’t rather have it made by a professional?”

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re more than qualified for the task.” 

Jim gazed adoringly at Seb, his dark eyes sparkling with true contentment. “Okay,” he agreed. “Anything for you, Tiger.” He would make sure his beloved alpha received the best cake this world had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	9. Mixed News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian learn the gender of their children. Later, Seb prepares a romantic dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Today was the day Jim had waited so long for. Now 16 weeks into his pregnancy, he would finally learn the gender of the twins. He was beside himself with anticipation.

“Sebby, I’m so excited.”

Sebastian nodded in accord. He knew very well how thrilled his mate was. The man kept him up half the night chattering about it. He didn’t fault him, though. This was a new experience for them both, and he could scarcely imagine what it must’ve been like from Jim’s perspective. To actually have life growing inside oneself, knowing that it would ultimately emerge as a fully formed, albeit tiny, person…well, the notion was nothing short of mind-blowing.

Dr. Swenson entered the room and Jim laid back on the examination table with his shirt pulled up— he knew the drill by now.

She smiled at her patient’s exuberance. “Eager for the assessment, aye?”

“I was eager a month ago. Now I’m rabid.”

“Let’s get started then.” The physician proceeded as normal, applying the gel and transducer to Jim’s abdomen. A picture soon came onto the screen.

“You’re in luck, gentlemen. Both fetuses are in good position for determining their sex.”

The Magpie and his Tiger exchanged a hopeful glance as they waited with bated breath.

“Here’s Baby A,” she noted, indicating on the monitor which twin she meant. “Looks like you’ve got yourself some sugar, spice, and everything nice. It’s a girl.”

Jim beamed at the news. “Oh, that’s wonderful.” Visions of porcelain dolls and frilly dresses filled his head.

“Over here,” Dr. Swenson pointed out, “is Baby B. Judging by the extra appendage I see, it’s safe to say it’s a boy.”

“One of each,” the mastermind marveled. His heart swelled with joy as he fell even further in love with his unborn children.

Sebastian shared in an equal state of bliss. As an alpha, he felt tremendous pride that it was _his daughter_ and _his son_ thriving inside Jim.

The couple clasped hands, knowing they would remember this moment for the rest of their days. It was perfection.

“Mr. Moriarty, now that we’ve completed the gender assessment, there’s another matter that needs to be discussed.”      

Jim furrowed a brow, slightly annoyed that the woman dared interrupt his and Seb’s happy mood. “I’m listening.”

“Today your blood pressure reading was on the high side,” she explained. “It’s not bad enough to require drug treatment, but I’d classify it as ‘borderline.’”

The Irishman frowned. “That would explain the headaches I’ve been having.”

 _Headaches?_ Sebastian wondered. _Since when did Jim get headaches?_

“Jimmy, why didn’t you mention it?”

“I didn’t think it was worth complaining about.”

“During pregnancy, it’s especially important to pay attention to your body’s cues,” Dr. Swenson warned. “Minor symptoms can be indicative of larger problems.”

Suddenly, Jim felt a pang of guilt. He wanted to be a good father. Wanted to provide his babies with a healthy, nurturing environment in which they could grow. Ignoring his own wellbeing was counterintuitive to that goal.

“What do you suggest I do for it?” he asked in earnest.

“I recommend you switch to a low-sodium diet. No salty snacks or overly processed meats. Also, remember to stay hydrated. Water can help flush out the body.”

Jim sighed and Sebastian instantly knew why. _No processed meats._ Magpie loved his bacon. And sausage. And ham. _Poor thing, having to give all that up._  

In a flash, it occurred to the sniper what he needed to do. Tonight, he’d prepare a special dinner for his husband that was delicious without being salt-laden. Perhaps a bit of romance would be on the menu, too.     

*********

Sebastian stood back, admiring the fruits of his culinary labor. Thanks to Jim keeping busy in his office all afternoon, he was able to concoct the feast undetected. It was an impressive spread consisting of roasted Cornish hens, wild rice stuffing, and green beans amandine. For dessert, he’d tried to make a chocolate soufflé, but it fell. Oh well. He never claimed to be a master chef.

The strapping blonde went out of his way to create a romantic atmosphere at the dinner table. Candles were lit and fine china was set down. A crystal vase of red roses served as the centerpiece. For an added touch of ambience, he even stoked a crackling fire in the fireplace. Everything was perfect. All that was missing was the guest of honor.

_SM_

_I’ve got a surprise for you. Come to the dining room and see._

Moriarty didn’t bother to text him back. Instead, he simply walked to the room Seb had directed. At first sight, his dark eyes widened and a gentle smile stretched across his face.

“Tiger, this is lovely.” He approached the table, leaning over to smell the flowers. “My favorite,” he whispered. “Why have you gone to so much trouble?”

“I don’t consider it trouble when it’s for the one I love,” Sebastian replied. “Now have a seat and we can dig in.” The former colonel pulled his husband’s chair out for him, signaling him to sit.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Jim teased.

“They haven’t met me.”

“Of course not,” he retorted. “They never will. I’m keeping you all to myself.” 

Seb grinned impishly. “Good. That’s the way I like it.”

Concluding their flirtatious exchange, the assassin brought out the food on a sleek silver tray, plating both of their meals before going back to retrieve a bottle of sparkling apple cider.

“I know this stuff isn’t as fancy as what you’re used to drinking, but for right now it’ll have to do,” he declared, pouring them each a glass of the non-alcoholic beverage.

“Sebby, you never cease to amaze me. How did I get so lucky to meet a man like you?”

Sebastian paused, considering the question. “Some might call it random chance that we met,” he said. “I, however, believe we would’ve always found a way to each other, no matter what.”

“Destiny,” the consulting criminal crooned. There was a time when he scoffed at such fanciful concepts; thought them wholly foolish. But then Sebastian Moran came into his life, and the rest was history.

The couple enjoyed their meal as much as they did each other’s company. Jim was even willing to try Seb’s woefully flattened soufflé. It tasted fine, but they both agreed it would’ve turned out better had Moriarty made it instead.

Conversation turned to talk of the twins, as it often did of late. They were proud papas, Jim especially so. The Irishman practically glowed as he described the newest baby items he’d ordered. Now that he knew they were having a boy and a girl, he was eager to start planning a playroom that would be inclusive to both.

“I think I might sack the decorator I’ve been using,” he quipped.

“Oh? You two seemed to be getting on so well.” They really had been— the woman was at their home practically every day, conferring with Jim about one thing or another.

“Yes, well, she hasn’t taken my calls all day,” he answered indignantly. “I spent a fortune flying her out here and putting her up at a hotel. The least she could do is phone me back.”

 _Ah, now it makes sense._ One simply did not ignore James Moriarty. Many an unfortunate soul had died for committing that very sin.

“Maybe an emergency came up,” Seb suggested.

The genius scowled. “She should have no higher priority than me and this project. There’s no excuse, Sebastian.”

The sniper knew there was little sense in arguing the matter. He loved his Magpie dearly, but the man often had unreasonable expectations of people.

Right then, Jim let out a pained sigh and shifted in his chair. He grimaced, absently rubbing the small of his back.

“Jimmy, are you okay?” After learning earlier that the dark-eyed omega had been suffering in silence with headaches, he wasn’t about to let another health concern go unchecked.

“Just a bit of a sore back. I don’t think it’s anything serious.”

“Sounds like you could use a patented Moran massage.”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “That would be divine.”

“Shall we take this to the bedroom, then? You can lie down and I’ll work my magic.”

Jim didn’t need convincing. Before Seb had even finished clearing the table, his husband was primed and ready.

“Tiiiiiger!” he called out. “Come on! You know I hate waiting.”

Sebastian chuckled. “On my way, Magpie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	10. Breakfast & Unboxing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic bliss with a disturbing twist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Sebby, I’m hungry,” Jim announced, poking the snoozing body beside him. “Wake up! Make me food.”

The sleepy-eyed sniper groaned. “Can’t you get it yourself?” He instantly regretted his statement as he saw the murderous look on Moriarty’s face.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that, because I want our babies to remain having two parents. However, I would recommend you choose your next words wisely.”

Sebastian sat up, pulling on a pair of boxers as he stepped out of bed. “I’m at your disposal, sir. Anything you want, simply ask and ye shall receive.”

“Ooh, ‘sir.’ Haven’t called me that in a while. I like it.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, sir,” Seb said with a wink.

“Been there, done that,” he coolly remarked. “Now what I’d really like is a pastrami and Swiss sandwich on rye, extra mustard.”

“Sorry, no can do, sir.”

“Excuse me? I thought you’d learned years ago never to say no to me,” he spat. “I may be pregnant, but I can still enforce a bit of discipline in case you need a reminder.”

“It’s just not possible for me to get you a pastrami sandwich. ‘No processed meats,’ remember?” It was all Seb could do to resist smirking as he threw the doctor’s words back at the ornery omega.

Jim let out a very annoyed sigh. He remembered, all right— but he was so ravenous, he wanted to forget.

“You would deny sustenance to the one bearing your children?” he asked with mock indignation.             

“I would deny something your obstetrician specifically said was off limits,” the handsome, half-naked blonde replied. “Besides, it’s not even close to noon yet. Wouldn’t you rather have a nice, hearty breakfast?”

Moriarty rolled his eyes. “A breakfast without bacon or sausage? Yes, I’d love that. Maybe I could really live on the edge and spread a bit of marmite on my toast while I’m at it. Oh, wait, no I can’t. That would be too salty as well.”

Sebastian understood his spouse’s frustration. Dietary restrictions were never fun.

“I could make you am omelette,” Seb proposed. “Throw in spinach, mushrooms, and cheese. Serve it with scones and jam and brew up a pot of herbal tea.”

“We have scones?” Jim asked hopefully.

“No, but it won’t take long for me to pop out and get some.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Get dressed and go.”

Seb smiled. “As you wish, sir.”

*********

After a morning of breakfast and quality time with Seb, Jim was tuckered enough to take a nap. He emerged refreshed at about half past two in the afternoon. Such episodes of midday slumber had become a regular part of the consulting criminal’s daily routine, along with raiding the cupboards for sweets and rearranging pillows to satisfy a nesting instinct.

“Sebby, have you checked the mail? I’m expecting some packages to arrive today.”

“Not yet, but I can do it now if you’d like.” He set aside the magazine he was reading and walked to the front door. There were indeed four parcels of varying sizes stacked on the porch. Gathering them up in a lazy man’s load, he hauled them into the house.

“Isn’t one-day delivery awesome? I couldn’t live in a world without it. I just couldn’t,” he babbled excitedly. “Regular mail is sooo slow.”

Retrieving a box cutter, Jim tore into the first package. He waded through a sea of packing peanuts to reveal several individual planks of wood and bolts.

“It’s a seesaw,” the mastermind declared. “Or it will be, once it’s put together.”

“No wonder those boxes were so bloody heavy,” Seb commented. “I suppose I’ll be the one assembling the thing.”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun.” Jim was radiating with almost childlike enthusiasm as he spoke. “I always wanted a seesaw growing up. Now the babies will have one and they can use it together. They’ll never have to play alone. Don’t you love that?”

Seeing how happy the idea made Jim, the sniper _did_ love it. He loved anything that brought such a genuine sparkle to his husband’s eyes.

“I think it’s fantastic,” Sebastian replied. “When the twins reach a certain age, perhaps we ought to spring for a full playground set.”

Jim’s jaw dropped at the suggestion. “Seb, it’s like you’re reading my mind!” he gleefully exclaimed. “I had the same thought. I also want to get them a carousel. A proper one, like they have at Kensington Gardens.”

The taller man laughed. “Our children haven’t even been born yet and they’re being spoiled already. Keep this up and they’re going to develop poshness in utero.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Jim teased.

Seb shook his head and placed a hand over the Irishman’s stomach. “Never,” he said. “It could never be a bad thing. They deserve only the best.”

Moriarty cooed at his mate’s touch. Sometimes he couldn’t help but feel every bit what he was: a blissfully pregnant omega reveling in the love of his current and impending family.

“Show me what else you bought,” Sebastian urged.

Jim moved on to another box. Slicing it open, he abruptly dropped the cutting tool and recoiled. His expression was horrified.

“Fucking hell!”

“What’s the matter?” the assassin asked.

He peeked inside the package and instantly saw what was wrong. The box contained a set of severed hands, chopped off cleanly and cauterized at the wrists. Judging by the length of finger nails and the colorful varnish that adorned them, they belonged to a woman.

Seb stared at the dismembered limbs for a moment, noticing a sheet of paper folded up beside them. His heart sunk as he knew this was surely the work of their stalker.

He read the note to himself and growled, crumpling it in his fist.

“What’s it say, Sebby?”  

“You don’t want to know,” the sniper warned through gritted teeth.

“Yes, I do! I’m not some fragile flower,” he insisted. “I can take it.”

Jim wrenched the note from Seb’s grasp, reading it for himself.

> _Here lay the hands_
> 
> _that helped to plan_
> 
> _a room for_
> 
> _your little bastards._

The genius’s eyes widened at the ghastly poem. “Oh God, Lisa.” He looked inside the box again to confirm his suspicions. “It’s her. I recognize the manicure.”

It wasn’t until Jim’s prompt that Sebastian recalled the interior decorator’s name. A shame it was only committed to his memory posthumously.

“This has gone too far,” the former colonel decreed. If their harasser was willing to kill, then all bets were off.

Jim checked the exterior of the box for a label that might indicate its sender. Alas, the cardboard was blank.

“There’s no address on here. Ours or otherwise,” he observed. “That means this didn’t come through the mail. Someone had to have delivered it personally.”

“You’re right,” Seb agreed. “And if that’s the case—”

“Then the security camera would’ve recorded it.”

“We need to review that footage _now_.”

*********

Jim and Sebastian pored through hours of surveillance video in the hopes of catching their stalker in action. Sure enough, at 11:17 a.m., a masked man appeared on their property bearing an unmarked box.

“That’s him,” the blue-eyed alpha surmised. “Too bad he wore a fucking mask.”

“I’d like to know how he got past the guard.”

Moriarty brought up a good point. Since the hanging doll incident, they had employed a guard to sit outside their home at all times. The individual was to remain in a parked car on the street for the duration of their shift, watching for suspicious activity. With that in mind, why hadn’t he apprehended this trespasser?

Sebastian had a terrible thought. _What if the guard was in on it?_

He quickly realized what he needed to do. “I’m going out front to check on the guard. I’d love to know why he didn’t stop our uninvited guest.”

“Be careful,” Jim cautioned.

“Always am.” At that, Seb took the safety off his gun and headed outside, ready for anything.

*********

When Sebastian reached the security guard’s car, he immediately noticed that the man was slumped over the steering wheel. To an untrained eye, it would appear he was asleep or passed out. Something about the setup felt very off to the assassin, though.

The windows of the vehicle were wide open, allowing Seb to simply stick his hand in and lift the guard’s head from the wheel. That’s when he saw it. There was a bullet lodged in the man’s temple.

Already unsettled, Moran grew even more alarmed when he stopped to analyze the scene in front of him. By the looks of the wound, the gunshot couldn’t have been administered at close range. No, this was done from a distance. This was done by—

_Another sniper._

“Oh fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	11. A Nightmare Most Macabre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has a horrifying nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains graphic violence and gory imagery. Don't read if you can't handle that kind of mature content. 
> 
> **************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian Moran laid in the dark of the bedroom, staring up at the ceiling. Though exhausted, he simply could not sleep. The events of the day had done a number on him in more ways than one, and he idly questioned if he’d ever rest soundly again.

Morning started out okay. Jim had been a little grumpy, but that was nothing new. The unexpected part came later, when they received a set of severed hands in a box. Hands belonging to the woman who’d helped design their children’s nursery. That was a shock to them both.

Tensions escalated further after the guard outside their home was found dead. Sebastian disposed of the body as discreetly as possible. He drove to the countryside and constructed a rudimentary bonfire pit in which he burned the corpse. It wasn’t his finest work, but it got the job done.

He would’ve taken the hands with him, too, but Jim wanted to perform a test on them. The consulting criminal claimed he knew how to check for fingerprints unrelated to those of the deceased’s. Unfortunately, it proved to be a waste of effort. No other prints were detected, and the severed extremities were swiftly sent through a wood chipper in the shed.

None of those events were what truly bothered Seb, though. What disturbed him above all else— what kept him wide awake— was the realization that their stalker was likely another sniper. Sure, the person could’ve just hired a marksman to take out the guard, but something told him that wasn’t the case. This felt personal.

Moran looked over at the slumbering silhouette of his spouse. The Irishman had begun to stir in his sleep, movements growing more fitful by the minute. Seb wondered what he was dreaming about.

*********

_The sun beat down brightly as Jim and Sebastian walked hand-in-hand along the shore of a white, sandy beach. It was just the two of them, surrounded by clear skies and a calm ocean that stretched on forever. This was paradise._

_They stopped beneath the shade of a palm tree, taking a moment to hold each other close. The mastermind could do this all day. He never felt safer and more at peace than he did in the arms of his beloved Tiger._

_Suddenly, a shadowy figure appeared behind them, brandishing a knife. The phantom lunged forward, piercing its blade into Sebastian’s gut._

_“No!” Jim shouted as the sniper collapsed to the ground. He scrambled to his husband’s side, desperate to help him. Seb had to live, he just had to._

_The malevolent presence approached once more. Faceless and menacing, it pulled Moriarty away from his dying mate. He struggled fiercely, not wanting to leave Sebby for anything._

_It was no use. The cruel specter overtook him, and in an instant, they were transported somewhere else entirely. No more sun, sand, and ocean. Instead, Jim found himself bound to a table in a dark room._

_The figure closed in on him, wielding the same weapon that had been used to slay his dearest Sebastian. In fact, it still dripped with the man’s blood._

_Try as he might, the restraints refused to give. True panic set in as the consulting criminal realized there was no getting out of this. He was about to be killed and there was nothing he could do to stop it._

_The entity did something unexpected. Rather than simply stabbing Jim through, it lifted his shirt and placed a shadowy palm on the Irishman’s abdomen._

_Moriarty shuddered. The air seemed to drain from the room as he struggled to breathe. All he could think of were his babies. They were innocent and good. They deserved to live even if he didn’t._

_“Please don’t do this!” he pleaded. The blade was now pressed to the small swell of his stomach._

_Jim was beset by overwhelming despair. This evil apparition had taken his husband from him and soon he would take his children, too._

_White-hot pain shot through the omega as he was cut open. Tears of agony and heartbreak streamed down his face. He knew his precious babies would not survive. At 4 months along, they were far too premature to live outside his body._

_Blood and amniotic fluid gushed from the incision. A shadowy hand reached in and pulled a tiny, underdeveloped fetus from Jim’s belly. It laid motionless, its umbilical cord still attached._

_All he could do was scream at the horrific sight. His cries hit a fevered pitch when the phantom clenched its palm into a fist, crushing the immature life-form held inside. A faint popping sound could be heard as the baby’s semi-soft bones snapped like wet twigs._

*********

“Jim! Wake up!” Sebastian yelled, barely able to hear himself over the volume of his mate’s deafening wail. The man had started screaming and flailing in his sleep, obviously locked into a dream which was causing great distress. 

Seb turned on the nightstand lamp. Now able to get a good look at Jim, he was taken aback by the absolute anguish plastered across his face. He’d never seen him so stricken.

The sniper did the only thing he could think of to do— he fetched a cool washcloth to wipe the sweat from Jim’s brow. Though his touch was featherlight, the damp contact was enough to rouse the mastermind from his nightmare.

Moriarty’s eyes shot open. Breathing heavily, he threw the covers off and hugged himself around the middle.

“Babies,” he mumbled, still half dazed. “My sweet babies.” His voice broke into a sob and hot tears ran down his cheeks.

“What about the babies?” Seb asked, truly afraid. Jim never broke down like this. Ever. The idea of him openly weeping was so at odds with his personality that Moran could hardly believe what was happening. Something was very wrong here.

The genius continued to cry, gasping for air. “N-n-need p-paper b-bag,” he managed to wheeze out. Sebastian quickly procured the requested item and Jim began panting into it. After a few minutes, his breathing seemed to steady.

“Jimmy,” the blonde spoke softly, “what’s going on? The way you were screaming…are you in some kind of pain?”

The Irishman stared at him with red-rimmed eyes, trying hard to regain composure. Every time he attempted to speak, another sob rose to the surface. It was like a floodgate had opened and a tidal wave of emotions were spilling out. Through the haze of upset, he found solace in rubbing his tiny baby bump.

“Oh, my Magpie.” Seb embraced his husband, feeling fiercely protective of him. “What is it?” he whispered. “What did you dream about that was so bad?”

“Something… _someone_ …killed you,” he shakily replied. “Then they took me and…” Jim struggled to say the next words, their very existence an obscenity to him. “They slashed me open and tore out our children. Crushed them right in front of me.”

Sebastian paled. “Jesus Christ. No wonder you were shouting.”

“It was the stalker who did it, Seb. I couldn’t see their face, but I know it was him.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe now, Jimmy.” The assassin shifted position so that instead of merely hugging his mate, he was now spooning him. It brought comfort to them both. 

“He stole everything that mattered from me,” Moriarty confessed. “And what terrifies me is that it could come true. He really could murder you…murder our babies. All of it.”

“Never, my love. I won’t allow it.”

“I wish I could believe that,” he said, nuzzling even closer against Sebastian.

“I’ll find this son of a bitch. And when I do,” the sniper warned, “there won’t be enough pieces of him left to identify.”

Seb meant it. Their pursuer had pushed him to the breaking point. If he wanted a war, he would get one. Colonel Moran never lost a battle.

*********

The next morning, Sebastian sat at the kitchen table, buttering a piece of toast when Jim entered the room. There was nothing unusual about that— they regularly shared breakfast together. What was strange, however, was the business attire he wore. The Irishman hadn’t sported a Westwood suit since opting to work from home.

“So stylish today, Mr. Sex.” The sniper grinned as he moved to pour his husband a cup of herbal tea.

“I’ve got to look good if I’m going to work on site,” he stated, grabbing some yogurt from the refrigerator before sitting down with Seb.

“Making an appearance at the office, aye? Is this for a special assignment?”

“No,” Jim answered sharply. “I’ve just come to the realization that sitting on my arse all day taking conference calls isn’t the most effective way to run a criminal empire.”

“Careful you don’t rush into anything.”

The mastermind glared. “I’m perfectly capable of managing my own organization, thank you very much.”

“Never said you weren’t,” Sebastian replied. “I was thinking more along the lines of your physical wellbeing. Be careful not to work yourself ragged. A healthy daddy equals healthy babies.”

Moriarty sighed. His expression changed from annoyed to…nervous? Flustered? Perhaps a little bit scared?

Seb wasn’t sure how to read his Magpie’s shift in mood. After Jim’s freak-out the night before, he couldn’t be certain what was going on in the man’s mind, though he suspected it wasn’t good.

Having barely eaten a thing, nor even taken a sip of his tea, Jim stood up and made a beeline for the front door. “See you at headquarters,” he said as he walked out.

Just like that, Seb was alone again.

_What’s going on, sweetheart?_

Something was definitely bothering his mate. If he had to guess, he’d say it was probably residual stress from the hellacious nightmare he had. But there was only one way to know for sure. Though he dreaded it, he and Jim would need to have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	12. Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian have a heart-to-heart conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian Moran felt like he was finally getting somewhere in his quest to identify the stalker. Realizing the culprit was likely another sniper, he decided to sit down and make a comprehensive list of all the other marksmen he knew. This included both past and present acquaintances, dating back to his time in the British Army. As one might imagine, it was proving to be a very long roster.

In an effort to pare down the suspects, he began checking to see who was alive and who was dead. Some he obviously knew the status of, but others…others he hadn’t seen in well over a decade. Their continued existence was indeterminate to him.

After spending a large portion of the morning refining his list, he thought it was time to go ahead and speak with Jim. He’d use his newfound cataloguing initiative as a conversation starter. From there, he would hopefully be able to segue into the real reason for their meeting— to discuss Moriarty’s emotional state and how Seb could help him through his fears.

This was virgin territory for the sniper. He _hated_ talking about feelings. It was a trait he and Jim both shared. But after what he’d witnessed the night before…his Magpie had been so utterly distraught. He couldn’t let him suffer alone. He wanted to be a good husband.

*********

The entrance to Jim’s office was slightly ajar. Sebastian peered inside, the door creaking open about an inch. The mastermind looked up from the paperwork he’d been reviewing and hastily shoved it into a drawer when he saw that the assassin was there.

“Excuse you,” the Irishman growled. “No one is to enter this office without knocking! No one!” He stood to approach Seb, but didn’t get far. A dizzy spell overtook him and he gripped the edge of his desk for balance.

Moran rushed to his spouse’s side, helping to hold him up. “Let’s sit you back down, okay?” For the moment, Jim didn’t disagree.

“Thanks,” he begrudgingly acknowledged. The consulting criminal looked pale and sounded more than a bit winded.

“Jimmy, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he replied. “I just got up too fast.”  

The rugged blonde fetched a cup of water from the cooler in the corner and handed it to his ailing mate. Jim accepted it without argument. 

“How about we go home and I make you a nice lunch?”

“Sebastian…”

“Or if you’d prefer, we could order takeout. I’ve got a few menus stashed away in the car. You could have your pick.”

“Sebby,” he said again. “I’m not leaving here. I told you I was coming back to work and I meant it.”

_Work,_ the sniper lamented. It was the only aspect of life Moriarty had much control over these days. Little wonder, then, that he’d run to it when trying to avoid everything else.

“Hon, you’re clearly not well. Please allow me to take care of you.”

The smaller man snorted. “Are you really so old-fashioned, Seb? You want to keep your omega locked up at home, barefoot and pregnant?”

Sebastian took a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to remind himself that his better half was in a state of hormonal flux right now. Jim’s decidedly peevish attitude was not entirely his fault.

“Fine, have it your way,” the former colonel offered in reply. He thought about the reason he’d come to Jim’s office in the first place and knew he needed to get the conversation back on track.

“I actually stopped by because I wanted to keep you abreast of my efforts to identify our stalker.”

That got the mastermind’s attention. “Oh? Go on.”

Seb explained his theory about the perpetrator being a trained marksman and outlined the methodology of his list. Moriarty seemed to approve of the endeavor, possibly because it was the most they had to go on so far.  

A minute of silence passed between them until finally the genius spoke up. “Is that all? Because otherwise, I think we’re done here.”

Now was the time for Sebastian to address his true agenda. Amazing that he could hunt, maim, and kill without compunction, yet have anxiety over something as basic as interpersonal communication.

“There’s another thing I wanted to discuss,” he gingerly answered. 

Seb desperately wished he could abandon his sad attempt at discourse and just get back to work. That would be a whole hell of a lot less nerve-racking. But he knew this needed to be done.

“Well, spit it out already.”

“It’s about last night,” he began. “I’ve never seen you so upset. I mean sure, you’ve been psychotic as fuck on occasion, but this…this was something different. You were inconsolable.”

That was the truth. Even while he held Jim, he could feel the man’s teardrops hitting his arm. When he finally stilled, Seb was positive he’d cried himself to sleep. The ensuing slumber was not especially restful, either. His Magpie had called out for him at several points, to which he reassured him each time.

“Don’t worry, Sebastian. You’ll _never_ see me like that again. Never.” The consulting criminal’s voice took on a harsh tone, as if he were angry. But the question was, angry at whom?

“Jim, what are you so mad about?”

“Oh, I dunno,” he snarled. “Maybe I don’t enjoy it when people barge into my office and proceed to mock me. When they throw things in my face that I’m not particularly proud of, like it’s some kind of game.”

“Mock? No, Jimmy, you’ve got it wrong.” The sniper was bewildered by his mate’s statement. Was that really what he thought?

“Do I?” he spat accusingly. “Then why come in here and remind me of what a colossal arse I made of myself? Why bring up what a weak fucking tosser I was?”

“Jim, no. I swear I didn’t—”

“Is it fun for you?” he continued, ignoring Seb’s attempt to interject. “I bet it’s hilarious, pointing out what a pathetic twat your omega is! Laughing because he’s sooo scared of losing his family!”

Jim was on the verge of a meltdown and it pained Sebastian to know that he’d caused this. It wasn’t what he’d intended at all. If only the Irishman would hear him out.   

“Magpie, please listen to me,” he implored. “I would never insult you like that. I love you too much to even consider it. All I wanted was to let you know that I’m here for you no matter what.” Moran reached out to grasp Jim’s hand. “If something is troubling you, I want you to _tell me_. Don’t bottle it up. Don’t let it fester until it’s so overwhelming, it splits you open.”

“Tiger, I…” he trailed off, averting Seb’s eyes.

“It’s okay, Jimmy. I’m _here,_ ” he reiterated, hoping to assuage his fears. “Talk to me. Let me in.”

The consulting criminal slowly looked up again, returning Sebastian’s gaze. “I’ve never felt this way before.” He shivered at the admission. “Until I met you, I didn’t think I could love anyone. The very concept was foreign to me.”

Seb nodded. He remembered full well how closed off the genius was when they first began their relationship. What started out as mere sexual attraction grew into a deep mutual devotion that neither had anticipated.

“Now something new has happened,” Moriarty confessed. “Our children are growing inside me,” he said, pressing Sebastian’s hand to his stomach, “and even though I haven’t met them yet, I’ve fallen so completely in love with them. I know it must sound foolish, but it’s true.”

The assassin smiled. “It doesn’t sound the least bit foolish, Jim. The bond between mother and child can be powerful.”

“Mother?” The smaller man balked at his mate’s choice of words, sounding vaguely hurt by the feminization. “I’m a father just like you.”

“That’s right,” Seb agreed. “I misspoke, I’m sorry.” But really, he hadn’t. Technically, the secondary sex characteristics that allowed Jim to bear children did in fact qualify him as the twins’ mother. There was no need to get pedantic about it, though. What was important was that he was finally opening up.  

“It’s fine,” he said, accepting the apology. “What I’m trying to say is that I’ve never experienced this kind of blind, unconditional love before. When I listen to their hearts beat, it’s like echoes of my own.” He lifted Moran’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “You and our babies mean the world to me. I think of that terrible dream I had, and of what our stalker could do, and it haunts me, Sebastian. It’s my undoing. If I lost any of you now, it would burn the heart out of me.”

“Oh, my beautiful, brilliant Magpie.” Every day, the former colonel’s love for his husband seemed to increase. Just when he thought he couldn’t possibly adore him more, moments like this came along and reset the entire paradigm.

Seb swooped in for a kiss, his mouth claiming and dominating Jim’s own. The Irishman’s breathing hitched as he was taken off guard by the passionate gesture. He soon responded in kind, kissing back with equal enthusiasm.

“You sure you don’t want me to take you home after all?” the blonde asked as he broke away for air.

Jim grinned. “Actually, I think you may have changed my mind.”

“Imagine that,” he teased.

Imagine, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	13. Working Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is late to come home, and it isn’t the first time. Sebastian grows suspicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

James Moriarty was definitely up to something. Or so his husband thought.

The mastermind had gone into work early and stayed late every day that week. When Sebastian would ask why, he always had a plausible excuse, but the sniper wasn’t buying it. He bloody well knew when his omega was keeping secrets.

It didn’t help that on a few occasions, he’d observed Jim hiding papers from him when he walked into the room. It hadn’t just happened at headquarters, either. The other day, Seb popped his head inside the Irishman’s home office and noticed him handwriting a document. He had no idea of its contents, but Jim quickly stowed it in a locked drawer.

It all seemed a bit dodgy. Disappointing, too, considering the breakthrough he and his mate had recently made. After finally getting him to open up emotionally, Seb believed there would be no deception between them. Now he wasn’t sure what to think, and frankly, it hurt.

The sniper waited up once more. It was past midnight and the consulting criminal still hadn’t come home. There were no text or voice messages to explain his whereabouts, nor was he replying to any of Sebastian’s correspondences. The silence was worrying.

At long last, the front door opened and in walked Jim.

“You,” Moran spoke forcefully, “didn’t answer my messages. Why not?”

“Because I was stuck in a meeting. Things got bogged down and I couldn’t break away. You know what that’s like.” 

Yes, Seb did know. But he was also wary of whether or not he was being told the whole truth. Then it hit him: the scent. His keen alpha senses detected an aroma on Jim that was incredibly familiar, yet could not be placed. He was positive he’d smelled it before.

“Who did you meet with?” the brawny blonde inquired.  

“An associate from Australia. He took a 22-hour flight to get here. I wasn’t going to blow him off after he’d gone to so much trouble. I’m not a total wanker, Sebastian.”

Seb grumbled. He knew a handful of Australians, but none whose scent matched the one on Jim.

The smaller man removed his shoes and socks and reclined on the couch. “Tiger, be a dear and rub my feet.”

Moran arched a brow. _Rub his feet? That’s new._

“Come on, Sebby. They hurt.”

And just like that, the former colonel was sitting at the end of the sofa with his spouse’s feet in his lap, massaging away the man’s aches. Even if he was somewhat suspicious of Moriarty, he could never allow him to suffer in pain.

“Tiger, you’re a miracle worker.”

Sebastian smirked. “My hands are but instruments of the Lord. I humbly do their bidding.”

Jim laughed, flashing a genuine smile that truly warmed Seb’s heart. This is what he’d been missing all week. The sniper savored gentle moments like these.  

“Guess I’ll have to have a chat with the Man upstairs. I’ve already hired you to do _my_ bidding, and I refuse to share your services with anyone.”

“Well, maybe you’re my Lord.”

Now it was Jim’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

Seb cocked his head and gazed intently at the consulting criminal. “I mean, maybe you’re the one I worship. You remember our vows. I swore to honor and obey. To cherish and protect. If that isn’t putting you on a pedestal alongside God, I don’t know what is.”

Moriarty looked absolutely love-struck. “My sweet Sebby,” he cooed. “You make me so happy.”

The assassin blushed. “You make me happy, too, kitten.”

“Good.” He arched his back slightly, reveling in the masterful foot rub. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately. With any luck, that will eventually change.”

“Oh?” Dare Sebastian dream?

“Yes, I plan on starting paternity leave once I enter my third trimester,” Jim declared. “Just a few more months to go.”

“Magpie, that’s wonderful.” Seb could hardly contain his excitement at the news. When the time came, he would be able to care for his husband the way he wanted to.

“I knew you’d be pleased.”

A thought occurred to Sebastian. “Does this mean you’re telling people about the pregnancy?”

“Honey, I don’t have to say a word. Any alpha worth their salt could pick up on the scent. Not to mention my expanding waistline. Even a well-tailored suit won’t be able to hide the paunch for much longer.”

Moran nodded. What Jim said made sense. At this point, his condition was basically an open secret and would likely remain so.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask how your list was coming along,” the mastermind remarked. “Making any headway?”

“In a manner,” he replied. “I’ve been vetting it to check who’s alive and who’s dead.”

“That must help narrow it down some.”

“It’s useful to an extent. The main problem I’ve run into is the number of individuals who are MIA.”

“Really?” Jim sounded rather surprised. “There are a lot of those?”

“At least a dozen unaccounted for, yes.”

The Irishman crinkled his nose as he considered the information. “I trust you’ve utilized the full breadth of my resources to find them?”

“Of course I have,” Seb answered. “But in an assassin’s line of work, if you don’t want to be found, you make yourself disappear right and proper. No loose ends.”

“Is that so? Wish someone had told me ages ago,” he teased. “Then I could’ve gone to you for advice after the messy business at St. Bart’s.”

Sebastian’s blood immediately ran cold and he stopped massaging his mate’s feet.

_St. Bart’s. St. fucking Bart’s._ If he never heard that damnable name again, it would be too soon.

“What’s the matter?” Jim asked, noticing the other man’s demeanor change.

“You’re a genius, figure it out.” _As if you don’t fucking know._

The consulting criminal rolled his eyes. “Lighten up. It was just a joke.”

“Not a very funny one.”

“Seb, it happened years ago. How long are you going to make me pay for my mistake?”

“Mistake?” the sniper repeated incredulously. “No, a mistake is being served decaffeinated coffee when you ordered regular. What you did was a hell of a lot more than that.”

“I’ve apologized for it umpteen times. I can’t take back what’s already been done. I thought we were past this by now.”

“Jim, I believed you were dead for two whole years. It was the worst period of my life,” he stressed. “Scratch that— what I was doing wasn’t living. I merely existed, going through the motions while my reason for breathing was gone, never to return. So no, it’s not a subject I’ll ever be able to laugh about.”

Moriarty sighed sadly. “I truly am sorry, Tiger. At the time, I didn’t realize how much you loved me…or how much I loved you. My head was in such chaos back then.”

“Full of scorpions is my mind,” Sebastian quoted in lament. The Bard always had a way of phrasing things with expert eloquence.

“Not anymore, darling. I know exactly _who_ and _what_ I want now,” Jim proclaimed. “No more games of life and death. I’m over and done with those.”

“Magpie…”

“Yes?”

“Sometimes I worry…” the former colonel hesitated to finish his sentence, almost afraid that if he said the words, they’d come true.

“What do you worry about, my dear?” the Irishman asked. “A week ago, you said I could tell you anything. Well, that’s a two-way street. So please, go on.”

Seb took a deep breath. “I know how changeable you can be. Sometimes I fear you’ll grow bored of me…bored of this domesticity we share,” he confessed. “I’m terrified that some random morning you’ll decide you want your old, unattached life back. Or worse, that you’ll feel trapped by our ordinary existence and check yourself out of the world for real.”

“Oh, Sebby.” The mastermind sat up from his reclining position and scooted close to his spouse. “I couldn’t possibly change my mind about this. About _us._ And our existence is anything but ordinary. It’s a bloody phenomenon,” he declared.

The assassin’s cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. He loathed blabbering on about his feelings as if he were a teenage girl. But truthfully, it did help to hear Jim’s pledge of assurance. 

“Sebastian, I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for the long haul. It’s you, me, Estella, and Edward. You’ve got us forever.”

_Estella and Edward? Who?_ The fair-haired man was puzzled at first, but one look at his mate’s warm smile explained it all.

“Those are the names you want to give the babies?”

Moriarty nodded. “I fancy a bit of alliteration. Thought I might call them by their shortened forms, Essie and Eddie,” he said. “What do you think?”

“If you like them, then I do, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	14. In Sickness & In Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim isn’t feeling well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian walked through the doors of James Moriarty’s headquarters with a spring in his step. He’d finished his most recent assignment earlier than expected and wanted to pop in and surprise his husband. Maybe they could have lunch together— dine at one of those posh bistros Jim loved so much. 

“Hey, Suzy,” he said, approaching the mastermind’s longtime secretary. “Is Jim busy? I was hoping to catch him at a good time.”

She furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Moriarty has left for the day.”

“Oh? Did he mention where he was going?”  

“He said he was heading home, sir. He took ill.”

 _Took ill?_ Dread shot through Seb’s heart. “What do you mean, he ‘took ill?’ What was the matter?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, he didn’t specify. I’m sorry I can’t offer more than that.”

“Yeah,” he huffed. “Thanks anyway.”

Sebastian exited the building as fast as he could. Once outside, he checked his phone to see if Jim had sent him any messages he may have missed.

No, he hadn’t.

Next, he tried calling the man.

No answer.

The sniper’s perfect composure was all but gone by the time he reached his car. Something was wrong with his mate. The instinct to protect Jim and their unborn children coursed through every inch of his body. It was an almost primal urge that took him by storm.

_I’m coming, sweetheart. Please be okay._

*********

When Sebastian arrived home, he quickly determined that Jim wasn’t in any of the main areas of the house. Ruling those out, it meant the man was probably in bed.

The tall blonde hurried to his and Jim’s room. Sure enough, there he was, curled up in a ball under the covers.

Seeing Seb enter, the Irishman’s dark eyes went wide. “Tiger,” he whispered, his voice sounding strained and his breathing labored.

“Magpie.” In an instant, Sebastian was at his spouse’s side. “What’s the matter?” he asked as he tenderly ran his fingers through the man’s hair. “I stopped to visit you at work and they told me you went home sick.”

“I don’t feel good. Glad you’re here with me now.”

Seb peeled back the heavy duvet and crawled in beside Moriarty. He moved to hold him in a spooning position, an arm flung around the smaller man’s waist. From that angle, he was able to gently rub his beloved’s belly.

Jim hummed at the touch. “Sebby…my sweet Sebby.”

“Tell me what’s wrong, darling.”

“It’s…I…” he trailed off, struggling to form a proper explanation.

Moran was even more worried now. His Magpie was one of the most articulate people he knew. If he was having trouble communicating, it meant something was _very_ wrong.

“My head,” he began again, “has been pounding like a bloody jackhammer all morning. I started seeing stars and passed out for a bit. Nobody saw because I was in my office, but I left after that.”

Seb held Jim tighter, as if trying to shield him from harm. It pained him to realize that this was something he couldn’t fix.

“Tiger, I can’t catch my breath and…and my stomach hurts.” The consulting criminal shuddered at the last part of his statement.

“Jimmy, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Sebastian rose from the bed and gently maneuvered the other man into an upright position. Jim didn’t try to fight him or disagree, a fact which was somewhat alarming. His cooperation was a tacit admission that this was serious and he needed help. 

“Sebby, maybe I should put on real clothes.” Indeed, the mastermind was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt— certainly not his typical attire. 

“No time for a wardrobe change, hon. We need to get you medical attention ASAP.”

Jim nodded in agreement as Seb carried him to the car.

*********

Not since that awful nightmare two weeks ago had Sebastian seen his husband cry. The unflappable James Moriarty wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve. It greatly unnerved him, then, to witness the man break down into tears on the way to the hospital. He was afraid for their babies, desperate to know if they were okay.

Checking in under assumed names, the couple was fortunate enough to be seen relatively quickly. Jim remained in a haze while a nurse practitioner performed a battery of tests. Seb stayed by his side the entire time, offering silent strength and support.

Eventually, the on-call obstetrician came to their room. She was pleasant enough— a ginger-haired woman with a kind face and friendly smile.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Kelly. And you must be,” she paused, glancing at the patient chart in her hands, “Tim?”

Jim nodded. He would’ve been amused, too, at Sebastian’s lack of creativity when creating an alias for him at check-in, but his poor health overshadowed any shred of humor the situation held.

“I’m glad you came in when you did, Tim. Your blood pressure is very high and you have a dangerously elevated protein count in your urine. If you’d waited much longer, you’d have been at serious risk for stroke and kidney damage.”

Seb’s façade of composure began to crack as he heard the news. People could die from the conditions Dr. Kelly described. _Jim_ could’ve died. And through all this, somehow he’d missed just how sick the man had become. What kind of alpha was he not to have noticed? Worse yet, what kind of husband did it make him? The guilt threatened to swallow Sebastian whole.

“He’s been following a low-sodium diet,” the sniper blurted out. “Our regular obstetrician said his blood pressure was on the high side, but that reducing his salt intake would help lower it naturally.”

“She gave you sound advice. Diet is often the first approach to lowering one’s blood pressure. Despite those efforts, though, sometimes it’s not enough.”

Dr. Kelly turned her attention back to Jim. “Based on your presentation, I’m making a diagnosis of preeclampsia. Usually this sort of complication doesn’t arise until the later stages of pregnancy, but it isn’t entirely unheard of to develop at 18 weeks, such as in your case. The earlier the onset, the harder it can be on the body. But the good news is that there are steps we can take to improve the situation.”

“What can we do?” Seb asked immediately. He ached to help Jim in whatever way he could.    

“For starters, I’m going to insist that Tim stay here overnight. We’ll put him on an IV drip of Labetalol, a hypertensive drug. It should bring his blood pressure down to a manageable level. If he responds well, then I’ll prescribe the medication in an oral form, to be taken daily throughout the remainder of the pregnancy.”

“Sounds like a solid plan to me,” the assassin agreed.

“What about the babies?” Jim spoke, finally breaking the silence that had overtaken him since arriving at the hospital.

“Tim,” she began, “I’m going to be upfront with you and your partner. Preeclampsia can interfere with blood flow to the fetus, which can lead to a series of problems down the line. But that doesn’t always occur, especially not if we’re actively treating the issue.”

“Right,” he said. The timbre of his voice was weary and broken in a way that Sebastian had never heard before.

“I’ll have them make up a bed for you in the obstetrics ward. That way we can also perform periodic fetal heartrate checks throughout the night.”

“He’s staying with me,” the Irishman abruptly declared, grabbing Seb by the hand.

“Of course. Spouses are always welcome. I’ll make sure they include a fold out bed for your husband.” At that, Dr. Kelly exited the exam room, leaving the two men alone.

“Forget the folding bed,” Jim announced. “You’re sleeping beside me.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Sebastian leaned down and hugged the smaller man. It was a gesture full of warmth and reassurance.

Jim responded keenly. “My Tiger,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around the former colonel. He held on tightly, as if remaining in his alpha’s embrace could protect him from the rest of the world.

Sebastian only wished it were true. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	15. Adventures at the Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is hospitalized. He’s not an easy patient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“This is humiliating,” Jim said as he wandered back to bed from the bathroom. The consulting criminal held one hand behind him to keep his paper-thin hospital gown closed, while the other hand gripped the IV pole he was attached to.

“It’s just for tonight, love. It’ll be okay.” Sebastian helped ease his husband into a comfortable position and retrieved a freshly warmed blanket to cover him with.

Moriarty had only been checked into the medical facility for a few hours and he already hated it. The food was tasteless, the sheets were prickly, and there was absolutely nothing interesting on tv. The only saving grace was the abundance of toasty blankets.

“I’m so _bored,_ ” he complained.

“I’ll see about getting some magazines in the gift shop,” Seb replied. “In the meantime, why don’t you try eating a little more?” The sniper moved a tray of food off the nightstand and sat it on Jim’s lap.

“Ugh. It’s terrible, Tiger. No flavor at all.” The low-sodium meal consisted of a grilled chicken cutlet, steamed carrots, and a glutinous white lump purported to be mashed potatoes.

“I know it isn’t great, but the nurse wants you to finish it. Besides, you’ve got to keep up your strength. Can’t do that on an empty stomach.”

Jim sighed and picked up the plastic utensils provided. He glanced at his mate, who nodded encouragingly. The support was nice, but unfortunately, it couldn’t make a bland dish come alive.

“For the babies,” he proclaimed, jabbing into an unseasoned, rubbery carrot.

Moran smiled softly, pleased that the mastermind was making an effort. “While you tackle dinner, I’ll try to scare up some reading material. Shouldn’t take long.”  

“It better not. I refuse to suffer alone.” Jim sounded testy, but Seb understood the truth of the matter. He was anxious and afraid, and his true emotions were manifesting outwardly in the form of crankiness.

The rugged blonde leaned down and kissed the smaller man on the head. He inhaled deeply, relishing the sweet scent of him. No cologne could compare to the natural fragrance of a pregnant omega. It was almost intoxicating.

“Eat as much as you can. There might even be a treat in it for you if you do,”

“Oh reeeeally?” Jim drew out, instantly intrigued. 

“Maybe. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“You’d best not be toying with me right now,” Moriarty warned. “It’s been a while since I’ve made someone into shoes, but it’s rather like riding a bike— you never forget how.”

Seb chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it, dear.”

*********

The hospital gift shop was fairly nondescript. Nothing special about it, but at least they offered a decent selection of newspapers and magazines. Sebastian purchased a hefty stack of periodicals and threw in a crossword puzzle book for good measure.

He couldn’t forget Jim’s treat, either. After perusing an assortment of confectionaries, the former colonel decided to buy the largest milk chocolate bar on display. Knowing his spouse’s sweet tooth, he’d surely appreciate it.

As Moran returned to the Irishman’s room, he could hear yelling coming from inside. Concerned, he picked up his pace and rushed to see what the commotion was about.

“Sod off, you bloody cow!” Jim venomously shouted at a nurse. Both parties looked upset, albeit for different reasons.

“What’s going on here?” the assassin demanded, eyeballing each of them.

“This slag is trying to steal property from right off of my body!” he fumed, shooting the middle-aged woman a chilling glare.

“That’s _not_ what happened!” the medical assistant refuted. She turned to Seb to explain. “The hospital has a policy of removing all jewelry from its patients. This man’s watch should’ve been taken off when he got in here, but someone obviously forgot to enforce the rule. I was sent to check his vitals, and when I saw what he had on, I attempted to remove it. That’s when he flipped out.”

Sebastian sighed. Jim was overreacting and he would have to diffuse the situation. _The things I do for you, my love._

“I don’t care what asinine policy this place has! I am _not_ surrendering one of my most valued possessions to you or anyone else in this hell hole! I’d sooner check myself out than submit to it.”

“Sir, given your condition, I strongly advise you not to leave until you’ve been reevaluated by a physician tomorrow. Furthermore, getting yourself worked up like this is only going to aggravate your blood pressure.”

Moriarty was furious, his eyes blazing with anger. “I wouldn’t be worked up if you weren’t trying to take what’s mine!”

This wasn’t good. Seb needed to act _now._

“Stop!” the sniper yelled loud enough to be heard over their bickering. “You,” he spoke, pointing directly at the nurse, “are going to tell me why the hospital has this policy. Be concise, but don’t leave out anything important.”

“Okay, fine,” she agreed. “Our policy is based on two aspects. First, the fact that jewelry, particularly that which is on or near the hands, is a harbinger for germs. Removing such articles is a necessary precaution. The second reason is because metal can interfere with readings on some of our medical equipment.”

Sebastian considered her explanation. It sounded reasonable. “If he were to take off the watch, could I hold on to it for safekeeping?”

“Certainly, sir. It was never my intention to confiscate the item. The two of you would be allowed to keep it once it was removed.”

Jim vigorously shook his head back and forth. “No! I’m _not_ doing it, Seb! I refuse.”

Something about the Irishman’s demeanor troubled Moran. Why was wearing the watch so important to him? He’d referred to it as one of his “most valued possessions.” Was that really true? The more Sebastian thought about it, he realized he’d never actually seen Jim take it off. _Hmm._

“Ma’am, could I have a moment alone with my partner to discuss this?”

“Absolutely, sir. I’ll be in the hall.”

The nurse left and Seb turned to his husband. “Jimmy, what’s the issue here? I’ll make sure your watch doesn’t get lost. Honest, I will.”

Moriarty’s posture slumped and he averted his gaze down to the now-empty tray on his lap.

The fair-haired assassin frowned. Though glad to see he’d finally finished his meal, he was concerned by the man’s sudden silence.

“Magpie lost his flutter?” Sebastian asked as he moved the tray out of the way and sat with Jim. “Look at me, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong.”

The consulting criminal lifted his head, focusing an intense stare on Seb. “We don’t wear our rings.”

“What?”

“Our wedding rings. We don’t wear them.”

“Because you didn’t want people to see them and know what we meant to each other. It would make it too easy for our enemies to hurt us that way.”

“I know, Sebby. I know. But…”

“But what, hon?”

“I can wear the watch you gave me without worry. The whole world could see it, and it would be fine because—”

“Nobody knows what it means except us,” Sebastian said, finishing his mate’s thought. Sometimes they were so attuned to one another, it was uncanny.  

Moriarty nodded. “It’s an entirely foolish and sentimental notion, but it plagues me just the same.”

“Plagues?” the sniper repeated for emphasis. “If it’s a plague, then consider me cursed, because I _love_ the idea.”

“You would,” he remarked.

“How could I not?” Seb flashed a playful grin, guaranteed to ease Jim’s mood.

The genius smiled back and did something surprising: he voluntarily removed his amethyst dial Rolex and handed it to Moran. “I’m putting this back on the moment we set foot outside.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he replied, tucking the timepiece into his pocket.

Jim peered at the taller man. “Now that we’ve got that sorted, I do believe you promised me a treat.”

“Sure did.” Sebastian fetched the gift shop goods, setting them down on the bed. An oversized chocolate bar lay atop the stack.

“Ooh, Tiger. You know what I like.” He reached for the candy with record speed.

“Might want to wait until the nurse checks you out before digging in.”

“Bugger that,” he quipped, tearing open the wrapper and taking a bite. “I’m tired, pregnant, and have been forced to eat food that’s barely a notch above what one might find at a Gulag. I think I’m bloody well entitled to chocolate right here and now.”

Seb couldn’t dispute Jim’s reasoning. He had dealt with an awful lot today, none of it being particularly pleasant.

“Okay, Jimmy. I’m going to invite her back in and she can work around your snacking.”

By then, the mastermind didn’t seem to care. He was terribly bored and wanted nothing more than to devour his sweet treat and read a newspaper.

“That’s fine. Carry on.”

Moriarty sifted through the stack of reading materials, stopping when he discovered a crossword puzzle book mixed in. A look of delight came over his face and all thoughts of reading _The Daily Telegraph_ went out the window. He had something more interesting to occupy himself with now.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	16. A Loving Tiger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian has a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian Moran’s arm was going numb. The cause of his ailment was a softly snoring Irishman who’d fallen unconscious on his limb. It wasn’t really Jim’s fault, though. A nurse had administered a diphenhydramine injection to help him sleep. The drug was effective, putting him out like a light while he rested in Seb’s embrace.

The sniper gently maneuvered his arm out from under the slumbering body. Once freed, he worked to restore its blood flow. After a few minutes of massage, sensation returned at last. Ironically, while his extremity was now awake, the rest of him grew very tired. Seb could barely keep his eyes open, and soon he succumbed to the Land of Nod alongside Jim.

*********

_Sebastian entered his mate’s hospital room carrying a cup of hot cocoa. It was prepared the way Jim liked— with real whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top._

_He frowned. The bed was empty. Moriarty’s things were missing, too. The man hadn’t brought many personal effects with him during the impromptu stay, but Seb remembered his shoes being sat near the door and his t-shirt and sweatpants folded on a chair. Now those items were gone._

_Suddenly, an orderly walked in pushing a laundry cart. She began stripping the sheets off the bed, totally ignoring the blonde’s presence._

_“Excuse me,” he spoke, trying to get the woman’s attention. “This room is supposed to be occupied.”_

_“Not anymore,” she flatly replied without even bothering to look up at him. She just kept her head down, working on the sheets._

_“What do you mean by that? My husband is staying here.”_

_“The last person assigned to this room died. That’s why they sent me to strip the bed. Somebody else already cleared out his things.”_

_Sebastian turned ghostly pale and began to shake. The hot cocoa he carried fell to the floor, a mess of brown liquid pooling on the lily white tile._

_“Hey!” the woman complained. “Watch what the hell you’re doing! Now I’m gonna have to clean that up.”_

_Her words barely registered with the former colonel. He was in a complete and utter daze._

_“You’re telling me that the man who was staying in this room is now dead?” Seb shouted, his voice fraught with hysteria. “When did it happen? And how?”_

_“I don’t know. Not too long ago, obviously.” She paused. “I did overhear some nurses talking about a guy who had a stroke. Said it was a real shame he died alone.”_

_Sebastian’s heart shattered into pieces. ‘Died alone.’ No…no! Not his Magpie. Not his beautiful, brilliant, madcap Jimmy. The person he loved more than anything else in this world._

_The assassin second-guessed himself. Why had he left Jim’s side for even an instant? Maybe if he’d been there, he could’ve done something to help. Could’ve gotten the doctors’ attention quicker. Or at the very least, he could’ve simply held his hand._

_It made him sick to imagine Jim overcome by a stroke as he laid alone. Did he realize what was happening to him? Was he scared? Worse yet, in those final moments, did he wonder why his husband wasn’t there? Did he think, god forbid, that his Tiger had abandoned him?_

_And their babies. Little Essie and Eddie. The children he and Jim so deeply wanted and adored. They were gone, too. Their tiny heartbeats, silenced forever. Seb ached as he thought of how he’d never be able to hold them, hug them, or rock them to sleep. He would never get to be their Daddy._

_Moran was suffocating under the weight of his despair. This was not mere sorrow. This was immolation of the soul. This was what it felt like to truly have the heart burned out of you._

*********

Sebastian jolted awake. It took him a minute to calm down and reorient himself.

 _Jim,_ was the only thought on his mind. He looked over at the still-sleeping man who meant everything to him.

“My Magpie,” he whispered. “I love you so.”

The sniper wanted to kiss and caress him. Wanted to hold him in his arms again, circulation be damned. But he knew Jim needed to rest. His health was first and foremost, coming ahead of all else.

Quiet as a mouse, Seb crept out of bed. According to his mobile, it was nearly 5 a.m.

 _Bloody hell._ He’d slept longer than he realized.

The sun would be up soon, and hopefully, Jim would be given clearance to go home. Before that happened, though, he’d probably be made to endure another unappetizing meal courtesy of the medical facility. If last night’s sorry excuse for a dinner was any indication, breakfast would be equally off-putting. 

 _My poor kitten._ Sebastian wanted to do something nice for his spouse. An idea quickly came to him. All he had to do was make the appropriate phone call, and it would come together thusly.

*********

Sunlight cascaded through the blinds of Jim’s room, casting a warm glow throughout. But it wasn’t dawn that stirred him, no. It was the scent.

An aromatic bouquet billowed in the air, transforming the sterile area into a realm of botanical ecstasy. If the essence of Eden could be recreated, it would surely smell like this.

Moriarty opened his eyes and blinked, uncertain if what he was seeing was real. There were flowers everywhere, and of numerous variety.

“Sebby, what is this?” he asked, staring in awe at his surroundings. The once spartan space was now filled to the brim with flora, turning the place into a makeshift garden. It was breathtaking.

The assassin grinned cheekily. “It’s just a little something I hoped you might like.”

“Like it? I _love_ it,” he enthused. “But how did you manage to pull this off?”

“I know all the right people.” In actuality, Moran only had to contact one florist in order to get the job done. Money could be a very compelling motivator, especially when you were able to offer it in abundance.

“I can’t believe I slept through the delivery. I guess I was dead to the world after that Benadryl shot.”

‘ _Dead to the world.’_ Seb inwardly cringed at the phrase. It was an innocuous figure of speech, but he didn’t want to hear Jim use the word ‘dead’ in relation to himself ever again.

“You needed the rest,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry. And better than yesterday. I think the drugs are working.”

“Thank god.” Sebastian was relieved at the news. “You gave me one hell of a scare.”

Jim cast his eyes downward, fidgeting anxiously. “About that…I’m sorry, Tiger. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“Don’t apologize. If anything, I’m the one who ought to make amends. You’ve dealt with so much stress lately,” he lamented. “I swore to protect you, but look what good it’s done. I’d fire me if I were you.”

“Then it’s fortunate I’m my own man. I would never give you the pink slip. You’re the only person I trust.”

“Likewise.” The sniper moved to sit on the bed with his mate, tenderly taking his hand. “I love you, Jimmy. I already lost you once. I couldn’t bear to again.”

“Well, you’re in luck, because I don’t plan on going anywhere,” he assured. “Except home, that is. Can’t wait to get back there.”

Sebastian smiled. “I’d like that, too. Our bed is a whole lot more comfortable than this thing,” he noted, referring to the hospital furniture they were currently perched upon.

“Sebby, go find a doctor to reassess me. I want to get this over with ASAP.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The fair-haired former colonel made his way to the door, intent on finding someone with the authority to clear his spouse for discharge. Maybe, just maybe, they’d be able to head home sooner than later.

*********

The Magpie and his Tiger were home at last, though it had not occurred quickly enough for Jim. The on-call obstetrician was unavailable to meet with him until 10 a.m. That meant he was subjected to a second dubious dining experience at the medical facility. Rubbery eggs and dry toast did nothing for his disposition.

The evaluation yielded a more positive experience. Moriarty’s body had responded well to the intravenous Labetalol, bringing his blood pressure down to a manageable level. He was prescribed to take an oral form of the drug twice a day for the remainder of the pregnancy. His regular OB was to be appraised of the situation and they would discuss it at his next checkup.

Upon release from the hospital, Sebastian was tasked with packing up the array of flowers in Jim’s room. Fortunately, someone at the nurses’ station was kind enough to provide them with empty boxes from a supply closet. In all, there were five cases of plant life to transport.

“Set those over there, darling.” Jim pointed to a spot in the living room.

Sebastian did as he was told, placing the box full of flowers exactly where his husband wanted them.

“I should’ve had these delivered here as a surprise for when you came home. I wasn’t thinking very far ahead,” the sniper admitted.

“I know, Tiger. But it was an incredibly sweet gesture.” He leaned up and stole a kiss from the taller man. “These will look wonderful around the house. They’ll add a fine touch of flair.”    

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Of course I’m right,” he said with an impish grin. “Now you finish unloading the rest while I go take a shower. If you’re quick about it, maybe you can even join me.”

Seb grunted huskily at the proposition. Moriarty always knew how to push his buttons.

Returning to the car for another load, Moran’s phone buzzed, indicating he had a new text message. He pulled the mobile device from his pocket, hoping it was Jim telling him to forgo the flowers and just hop in the shower with him. His mate changed his mind often, so it was possible.

He damn near dropped the phone when he read what it said.

_Unknown Sender_

_Welcome home, Colonel. I trust all is well. It’d be a shame if something befell those whelps of yours._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	17. Secrets & Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian argue. Secrets come to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Two weeks had gone by since Sebastian received the anonymous text message mocking the welfare of his unborn children. He tried to trace the correspondence back to its sender, but found that it originated from a burner phone. It was yet another brick wall in the quest to track down his and Jim’s stalker. The countless dead ends were driving him to madness.

 _Jim._ Moran felt intense guilt over what the stress was doing to his mate. Pregnancy should be a time of great joy for an omega, and indeed, the Irishman was happy. However, he was also contending with excess anxiety because of their harasser. Seb couldn’t help but think that Jim’s high blood pressure was at least partially due to all the threats they’d received.

Moriarty was again operating under a reduced workload. After learning of his preeclampsia diagnosis, his regular obstetrician advised him to take it easy. Though not placed on strict bedrest, it was recommended that he avoid overexerting himself. This meant he would only travel to headquarters one day a week. The remainder of the time he’d conduct business from home.

Sebastian was relieved to have his husband mostly consigned to their house because that made it easier to keep him safe. He’d rehired the extra security guards Jim previously dismissed, giving them specific instructions to report any and all activity taking place on their property. This included the comings and goings of delivery people, repairmen, and even the mastermind himself. Moriarty was seemingly unaware of the increased surveillance and Seb knew he’d be livid when he found out.

The sniper broke his word by having Jim watched. But he couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. His primary goal in life was to serve and protect the man. Right now, this was the best way he knew of to achieve that. He had the consulting criminal’s well-being at heart. 

It disturbed Seb to hear from the security crew that his Magpie was venturing out on a near daily basis. Like a true bird in flight, he was said to be fluttering from the nest at odd intervals, with no discernible pattern to his excursions. When asked about what he did during the day, the genius would play dumb, pretending he’d been cooped up inside.

What was the reason for Moriarty’s deceit? Sebastian contemplated the question endlessly, never reaching a suitable conclusion. He thought back to a month earlier when he suspected Jim of hiding documents and letters from him. He was unsettled by it then and even more so now.  

When Moran allowed his mind to wander, his thoughts took a dark turn. The last time the mastermind was this secretive…

Seb shook his head, not wanting to remember. But he could _never_ forget, no matter how badly he tried. All the liquor in the world wouldn’t erase that godforsaken experience. It was branded into his soul.

 _The rooftop of St. Bart’s._ The last time Jim had been this secretive was when he was planning that final fucking game with Sherlock Holmes.

Sebastian growled, throwing a now-empty tumbler of scotch across the length of his office. It hit the wall with a satisfying smash, shards glistening along the thinly carpeted floor. What he really wanted was to pound his fist into the wall, but in his line of work, he couldn’t risk damage to his hands. Glassware would have to suffice.

Jim was up to something. Of that, the assassin had no doubt. Surely, whatever it was couldn’t be as extreme as St. Bart’s. It just couldn’t be, not now. Not when…

_When we’re a family._

In his heart, he knew that Jim would never risk their children’s lives. His own, perhaps, but not theirs. He loved the babies far too much for that.

So what, then, was the criminal extraordinaire hiding? Seb would head home to find out.

*********

It was mid-afternoon when the former colonel arrived at the residence he and Jim shared. Funny how his husband didn’t greet him when he walked through the front door, or when he marched down the hall, calling the man’s name. Or even when he checked the backyard, searching for him there, too, in the off chance that he might be relaxing on the lanai. 

_Where are you, Jim?_

Seb had half a mind to ring him up, demanding to know his current location. But he needed to remain calm and keep his wits about him. Getting upset wouldn’t do any good.

So he returned to the living room and sat down. He would wait. Wait for his mate to buzz back to their nest. Then he would bloody well get some answers.

*********

The smell was the first thing Sebastian noticed when Jim traipsed in. It was _that_ scent again. The one from a month ago that was so terribly familiar, yet unplaceable. A growl instinctively tore from his lips, grabbing the smaller man’s attention.

“Fancy meeting you here, Tiger. Make that sound again and I’ll have to insist we play a round of ‘Pin the Magpie.’” He ogled the strapping assassin wantonly, and if Seb wasn’t so angry, he would’ve found the look irresistible.

“No games, Jimmy. I want the truth.”

“Truth? You’ll have to be more specific than that, dear. And while we’re at it, care to tell me what you’re doing home so early? I can’t be at headquarters myself, but I presumed you’d be there to oversee things.”

“No,” Moran protested. “You don’t get to ask the questions right now. That’s my job.”

Jim blanched at his husband’s sudden attitude. “Sebby, have you recently suffered a head injury? Because that’s the only explanation I can come up with for why you’re acting so daft.”

_Daft? He comes home smelling like someone else and I’m the one who’s daft?_

“Cut the bullshit,” he spat. “I know you’ve been going out every day, even though you allege not to have left the house. And you _reek_ of alpha. The same alpha you claimed was an associate from Australia a few weeks ago. I believed you then. I’m not so sure now.”

The sniper’s words hung thick in the air as a hurt expression washed over Moriarty’s face. Seb hadn’t been prepared for that. He expected the Irishman would be furious, but this…this was pure dejection.

“You’ve been spying on me.”

“I had to do something to keep you safe. I received a text message from the stalker the same day we got back from the hospital. He threatened the babies.”

Jim paled. “And you didn’t think to mention it? We’ve been through this before! Why would you not tell me? Why?”

“Because of _this,_ ” Sebastian said. “Because of your kneejerk reaction to things. With your condition, it could aggravate your blood pressure.”

“Surveilling me is your solution?” he asked incredulously. “I suppose I should’ve realized what you were up to. Should’ve picked up on the clues. But I didn’t. Like a fucking idiot, I didn’t see the treachery that was going on right in front of me.” He shook his head in sadness and frustration. “I was blind because I _trusted_ you, Sebastian. Trusted you completely. Well, shame on me for making that mistake.”

“Jim, try to understand—”

“Stop it! Just stop! I can’t abide these lies. I told you there would be consequences if you deceived me again, but still you persist.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” the blonde hissed in reply. “You’ve not been truthful either. Where do you go during the day? And who’ve you been with? Why do you smell like another alpha?”

Moriarty glared. “What _exactly_ are you implying?”     

A stifling silence came upon them until Moran finally opened his mouth to speak. “I…I don’t know,” he whispered with uncertainty.

The former colonel honestly didn’t know what to think. Others in his situation would likely assume their partner was cheating. But Seb knew better. Despite mounting evidence, he could not believe Jim would ever stray from their marital bed. They’d sworn solemn fidelity to each other long ago and meant it.

“I’ve heard enough,” the dark-eyed omega announced. He turned around, car keys in hand, and headed for the door.

“Wait!” Sebastian intercepted his spouse before he could step outside. “Please don’t go. It’s pretty clear that I took the wrong approach here,” he admitted. “I just wanted answers. I’m sorry if it came off as an ambush.”

“An ambush? Don’t flatter yourself. This was little more than an exercise in petulant machismo. Also, a fine opportunity to learn what you really think of me.”

“Jimmy, no.”    

“Sebby, yes,” he mocked. “You automatically assume the worst of me. Even now, while I’m carrying our children, you figure I must be up to no good. That’s some grade-A loyalty, my love. You’re a real fucking prince.”

Overwhelmed by guilt, the assassin moved aside, allowing the other man to exit. Jim had every right to be angry. He’d fucked up royally and wished he could take back the entire conversation. How could it have gone awry so fast?

The door slammed as Moriarty left in a huff.

Seb sunk down into the couch, forlorn. The reality of what had just transpired hit him hard. He’d allowed his pregnant omega to go gallivanting god knows where, with zero means of protection. This solidified his failure as a bodyguard, a husband, and an alpha.

Jim simply needed to blow off steam, right? He’d be back in no time. Of course he would.

*********

Sebastian awoke to darkness and a splitting headache. Initially dazed, memories of the past several hours soon came flooding back. After he and Jim argued, the sniper sought solace in a fifth of bourbon. From there, he’d made his way to the bedroom where he unceremoniously passed out on the floor.

“What time is it?” he mumbled, standing up and turning on a light. He almost didn’t believe it when he saw the clock. It was 9 p.m. _Fuck._

His thoughts turned to Jim. _Surely, he must be home by now._ With that in mind, Seb rushed out to the living room, calling the man’s name.

But he wasn’t there. He didn’t appear to be in any room of the house, for that matter.  

Moran was about to send his husband an apologetic text message when he noticed something that made his heart sink. Jim’s phone was sitting on the coffee table. He’d been in such a hurry to leave after their quarrel that he’d left the device behind. This meant he had no way to contact him and vice versa.

_And no way to call for help if he was in trouble._

Suddenly, Sebastian was very worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	18. Sorrow in Absentia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has run off. While he’s away, Sebastian makes a discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Jim Moriarty was bored, tired, and brokenhearted. He’d been driving aimlessly for close to six hours. Oh, he made pit stops here and there, but those only worsened his mood. It seemed like everywhere he went, a memory of Sebastian followed.  

He visited a park and remembered the time he and Seb picnicked there, shagging in an out of the way spot and watching a brilliant sunset as they laid in each other’s arms. He went to an arcade and couldn’t help but recall when the two of them played skee-ball for hours just so the mastermind would have enough tickets to buy a stuffed panda. Seb joked that it was too bad they didn’t offer a tiger. Jim said it was fine because he already had all the tiger he needed.

Even passing by something as mundane as an alleyway triggered thoughts of his husband. Moriarty recognized certain dark corners of the city as places where he and Sebastian had run off to after kills, fucking like animals under the pale moonlight. It was in one of those alleys that he first confessed his love for the other man.

He wanted to go home. Wanted a hot meal, a comfortable bed, and a gorgeous alpha to snuggle. It was also time for his second dose of blood pressure meds. He’d been taking them on a set schedule and was advised not to break the routine.

Before any of that, though, he needed to find a restroom. Dr. Swenson had warned him that the babies would soon begin putting pressure on his bladder. Jim thought it was a bit too early for such a thing, but sure enough, she was right. Carrying twins was definitely harder on the body than a singleton.

The consulting criminal pulled into a convenience store parking lot. It didn’t appear to be busy. With any luck, he’d be in and out in less than 10 minutes.

_Then it’s home to my Tiger._

*********

Sebastian sat in Jim’s office brandishing a picking tool, contemplating what he was about to do. He was mere moments from breaching the lock on Moriarty’s desk drawer. The man would undoubtedly be angry when he found out, but this was for a worthy cause.

The sniper sought contact information. He thought that perhaps Jim was with whomever he’d been sneaking off to see during the day. If he could figure out who he was dealing with, he might be able to locate his mate.

Attempts to access the mastermind’s phone for data proved fruitless— the device was password protected. He already knew his computer was similarly guarded, so that would be a dead end, too. The only option left was to check the drawer.

Oh, that damned drawer. It was a place of mystery and suspicion, its contents as elusive as a cryptid sighting. Things were filed away, never to be seen again. Seb had always been curious to see what was inside, especially after he realized the genius was hiding documents from him in there. Now he could finally justify cracking open the compartment.   

Well-versed in the art of breaking and entering, Moran popped the lock with relative ease. At first glance, he observed several folder files and an incredibly ornate wooden box. Naturally, his attention was drawn to the latter.

_Hmm. What do we have here?_

He picked up the rectangular container and examined its exterior. Intricate designs were carved into the façade, forming a beautiful pattern. It was really quite elegant.

Seb lifted a small latch on the box, releasing the lid. What he found inside truly surprised him. It seemed that James Moriarty, the most dangerous man in London, was secretly keeping a box full of…mementos.

Sifting through the items, Sebastian was taken on a stroll down memory lane. There were ticket stubs from movies and West End shows they’d gone to see. There was a paper umbrella from the drinks they were served at a luau while on assignment in Hawaii. There was even a silver ribbon Seb recognized as part of the wrapping from a Christmas gift he’d given Jim.

At the bottom of the box was a framed photo of the two of them, taken on their wedding day. The assassin smiled, fondly remembering the event. It was one of the rare occasions when he’d worn a tuxedo, complete with cufflinks and a cummerbund. He felt rather silly in the formalwear, but Jim couldn’t stop gushing over how handsome he looked. The man was all smiles that day, among the happiest Seb had ever seen him.            

“So sentimental, my Magpie.” For as often as his spouse railed against schmaltz, he was, at his core, a sucker for it just the same.

He closed the box and put it back in its rightful place, a pang of nostalgia now coursing through him. It was easy to get lost in musings of the past. He and Jim had shared so much together, it was difficult to imagine a time when they weren’t in each other’s lives.

Moran moved on to the folder files. Rifling through the thick stack, the materials contained therein appeared fairly humdrum. They were mostly a series of financial statements, ostensibly for recordkeeping purposes. It was very dry stuff, and he wasn’t sure why the mastermind had gone to the trouble of locking them up.

Sebastian was ready to concede that there was nothing of use to him there and return the documents to the drawer, when he spied something strange. There was a folder near the top of the pile that held an eclectic mix of receipts. Multiple purchases had recently been made all over the city. Sales included a Waterford crystal punch bowl, several sets of porcelain dishware, a large luxury yacht, and the acquired services of both a gourmet caterer and a DJ. If Seb didn’t know better, he’d think Jim was organizing a party.

_A party…no, it couldn’t be._

Quickly, he double checked the slips. The receipt for the DJ stated that the amount was paid in advance for services to be rendered on a specific date… _his_ birthdate.            

The sniper was absolutely gobsmacked. _This_ was what Moriarty was hiding from him. He was venturing out every day to formalize plans for his husband’s birthday party. In fact, it might even explain why he’d smelled so different. If he was working in close proximity with an alpha, the scent could’ve rubbed off.

At first, Sebastian was deeply touched by the realization. The idea of Jim doing something like that for him warmed his heart in the most wonderful way. But then… 

A sick feeling washed over him as he recalled the fight they’d had hours earlier. The formidable blonde was so suspicious of the Irishman. So confrontational, without any real proof behind his assertions. It was unwarranted mistrust on Seb’s part, and Jim was right— the assassin _had_ assumed the worst of him.

“Oh, my love. What have I done?”

*********

Jim felt great relief upon exiting the convenience store. With his most urgent physical need sated, the consulting criminal was ready to get back on the road and head home. He could picture it already. When he walked in, Sebastian would probably be passed out on the couch or cleaning his guns. Either way, he’d put the man to work cooking for him. A filet mignon and baked potato sounded divine right now.   

As he neared his car, he was struck by an eerie sensation. Goosebumps formed on his skin and he stopped dead in his tracks, looking around. Though the darkened lot appeared empty, Moriarty got the distinct impression that someone was there in the shadows.     

He took a deep breath and wished to god that Seb was with him. The mastermind was no stranger to handling situations himself, but his current condition left him more vulnerable than usual. He now had to consider his children’s well-being in addition to his own.

“If you’re cruising for someone to rob, I suggest you look elsewhere. I don’t carry cash, and I’d be sure to cancel my credit cards before you ever got a chance to use them,” he icily warned. Hopefully, his words would be a deterrent.

 _Here goes nothing._ He swiftly resumed his trek to the car. He’d just reached the door when a gloved hand grabbed him from behind. Jim struggled fiercely, scrambling to break free of his attacker’s grip. It was a futile effort. The man outmatched Moriarty in height and weight, easily subduing him.    

But Jim wasn’t one to give up without a fight. Thinking fast, he let his body drop to the ground, careful not to land on his stomach. The burly assailant was taken off guard by the abrupt move, falling to the asphalt with his prey.

The genius only had moments to act. He bit down harshly on the larger man’s arm, eliciting a yelp of pain. In the confusion, he managed to scurry a few feet away, but his pursuer was relentless. The hulking figure lunged at Jim, pinning him down and producing a wetted handkerchief from his pocket.

The Irishman’s eyes went wide as he could already smell the chemicals wafting from the cloth. He knew what was going to happen next— he would be knocked out. There was a twisted irony to it. He’d done the same to people before, and now he was on the other side of the rag.

As Moriarty slowly succumbed to the fumes, his last thoughts were of Sebastian. He desperately wanted his mate. Wanted to tell him how much he loved him. Wanted to feel his safe, warm embrace. Just wanted _him,_ period.

“Tiger,” he whispered, as his vision descended into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	19. Lamentations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian both have regrets. Plus, Seb does some investigation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Shit!” Sebastian yelled as a searing heat singed his leg. He looked down and saw that the cigarette he’d been smoking was now in his lap, having burned a dime-sized hole through his pants. He swiftly stubbed out the offending stick of tobacco.

“Must’ve nodded off,” he muttered.

The sniper waited up all night for Jim to come home. Night turned to day and the man still wasn’t back. To say that Seb was worried would be an understatement. He was positively frantic.

 _Why did I let you leave?_ Moran asked himself that question over and over again, never finding a good enough answer. There were so many things he would’ve done differently if only he had the power to rewind the clock 24 hours.

Guilt consumed him. Why had he been so quick to jump to conclusions about Jim? Yes, his spouse was being secretive, but why did he immediately assume it meant something terrible? At one time, his reaction might’ve been justified. But that was in the past. Not now. Not after they’d reunited following Moriarty’s return from supposed death. Not after they finally realized the depths of their love for each other and decided to wed. And most certainly, not after Jim became pregnant with their children.

 _I fuck everything up._ Sebastian reflected on how colossally poor his judgment had been. He was trying to alleviate stress from Jim’s life, but instead added to it wholesale. If he hadn’t confronted him so bluntly, then the man wouldn’t have felt compelled to leave in the first place. Seb was taught that an expectant omega should be cherished and cared for by their alpha, without exception. In running off his mate, he’d done the exact opposite. He’d failed in the worst possible way.

_I’m sorry, Jimmy._

The assassin couldn’t take sitting around doing nothing. He was a man of action. So what was next?   

Phone calls. He would touch base with those in the criminal web. Maybe someone had seen Jim around or heard something regarding his whereabouts. It was worth investigating.

*********

James Moriarty awoke haphazardly sprawled across a cement floor. He was feeling woozy, probably a result of the chemical used to render him unconscious. Slowly, he sat up and took a look at his surroundings. 

He’d been brought to a barebones basement that consisted of four concrete walls and precious little else. There was a toilet and sink along one side, and what appeared to be a standalone shower unit in the corner. A lightbulb flickered overhead, seemingly the only means of illuminating the windowless room.

Once his dizziness subsided, Jim rose to stand. He was quickly made aware of a shackle around his ankle and its corresponding chain attached to a pipe. He tested the length of the tether and found that it gave him enough leeway to navigate the room.

 _Thank god,_ the mastermind thought. If he was going to be held captive, at least he’d have access to a bathroom. That was more than he could say for previous abductions he’d faced.

Moriarty was almost certain his stalker was behind the kidnapping. Months of harassment had led to this. He loathed that he’d fallen prey so easily.

 _Why did I leave?_ He and Sebastian had fought, yes. But that didn’t mean it was right to storm out the way he did. He could’ve simply locked himself in his office or taken a long soak in the tub. Could’ve done any number of safer, smarter things. Instead, he let his temper get the best of him and now he was trapped. Worse yet, his children were trapped, too. They were unwitting victims in this mess.     

Jim felt incredibly guilty. He’d spent so much of his life making one rash decision after another, rarely considering how his choices might impact those around him. He was changeable, fluid, impulsive. And why not? Only _ordinary_ people allowed themselves to become pigeonholed. Better to be dead than predictable.

Impending parenthood changed all that. The moment he learned he was pregnant, he felt a shift in his worldview. Suddenly, actions had consequences which carried genuine weight. The things he did directly affected the tiny lives growing inside him. Essie and Eddie required stability and commitment. They depended on him to make good choices.

_I failed them._

The Irishman’s mind began to buzz. He thought of how he’d been forced to inhale chloroform fumes. What might that have done to his babies? He was well aware of the substance’s chemical composition and knew it held toxic properties. However, he was unsure what, if any, immediate danger it posed to a gestating fetus.

He placed a hand on his stomach, rubbing it gently. At 20 weeks along, he had still not felt the twins move. That was okay, though, because he could listen to their heartbeats every day. So long as they were pumping steadily, everything was fine.

But he couldn’t hear them on this day. He was denied the comfort of knowing whether his little ones were alive or…no. _Never._ He refused to even think it. Essie and Eddie were thriving. They had to be. He would accept nothing else.

*********

Sebastian had a lead. Several hours’ worth of phone calls finally yielded a piece of information he could use. Word got out that Jim’s car was found abandoned in the parking lot of a convenience store located on the outskirts of London. The vehicle was towed, but Seb was able to get a gander at it when he stopped by the impound yard. On sight, he recognized it as definitely belonging to his husband.

After confirming ownership of the car, the sniper’s next move was to survey the parking lot where it had been deserted. Seb was on a hunt for clues. Keen observation and attention to detail were at the forefront.    

About an hour into his search, he realized there wasn’t as much to go on as he’d hoped. Motorists came and went, likely disturbing whatever evidence may have originally been at the scene. Still, Moran persisted.

It’s often said that missing items tend to show up in the last place you look. In this case, the adage held true. The former colonel thought he’d checked every nook and cranny in that parking lot, but lo and behold, there was a bush on the far end of the property he nearly missed. It was an honest mistake— the shrubbery in question was identical to the other bushes he’d already rifled through.

Seb discovered something that set this particular foliage apart from the rest. It harbored a discarded handkerchief and what he knew to be Jim’s car keys.

_Must have been stashed here by the kidnapper._

Yes, he was officially using the term “kidnapper,” because that’s what he was convinced this was. He’d had suspicions from the start, but the abandoned vehicle and hidden effects confirmed it.   

“Chloroform,” he noted, eyeing up the wadded rag. Even dried on cloth, the chemical gave off a distinct odor. Nobody used a substance like that unless they were intending to knock someone out.

_Who did this to you, Jimmy?_

Sebastian Moran would do all he could to find out.

*********

The most dangerous man in London screamed until his throat went raw. He was driven by many things. There was rage that he’d been abducted and left to rot in a cellar. There was frustration that he could find nothing to pick the lock on his ankle with. There was hope, however small, that someone might hear him and investigate the noise. And last, but certainly not least, there was anxiety over being forcibly separated from his husband.   

Jim missed Sebastian terribly. He needed his Tiger just as he needed oxygen or water to survive. The blonde assassin was an imperative. Funny how he hadn’t thought about that when he ran away from the man.   

 _I fuck everything up._  

He peered at his watch. The timepiece was a source of great comfort for Moriarty. Wearing it made him feel closer to Seb even though they were apart.

 _We’ll be together again soon, my love._ He believed with all his heart that either Moran would find him, or he would formulate his own escape. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	20. Say a Prayer for Lovers Parted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim suffers in captivity while Sebastian struggles to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Jim felt like hell. Appropriate, seeing as how he was now residing there as well.

Shackled and forgotten, time blurred into an interminable procession of hunger, pain, and misery. Just how long had he been down in that basement? Even using his watch as a guide, he’d lost track. If he had to guess, he’d estimate maybe four or five days.

He’d not eaten since before the abduction. He was able to drink water thanks to the sink provided, but the hunger…good god. It was unforgiving. The Irishman had gone longer durations without food, certainly. But _not_ while pregnant. His current condition seemed to make it so much worse.

The lack of nutrition distressed him. If he was starving, did that mean his babies were, too? They needed nourishment to develop and grow. Would this stunt them somehow?

Moriarty held his head in his hands, trying to breathe through the agony. His whole body hurt. Carrying twins was hard enough under normal circumstances— doing it without furniture to rest on was downright excruciating. In particular, sleeping on concrete proved nigh impossible. The rare occasions when he did nod off were more due to sheer exhaustion than having found any actual comfort.

And the headaches. Dear lord, the headaches. Brutal and blinding, they were enough to knock the wind out of a person. The last time he’d experienced pain like this was when he was hospitalized. He knew he was getting sick again. Without his twice-a-day drug regimen, his blood pressure rapidly shot back up.

Jim remembered what the obstetrician at the ER had said: preeclampsia could interfere with blood flow to the fetus. Her statement led him to research the specifics of his ailment, and what he’d learned was chilling. Its effects could cause a baby to be undersized and premature. Worse yet, it could even result in stillbirth.

But he thought he would be okay. The medication they’d put him on was working. Everything should’ve been fine. Until _this_ happened. Until he was kidnapped and deprived of the antihypertensive medicine he and his children so desperately needed.           

Sebastian always took care of him when he wasn’t feeling well. The assassin would stay by his side reading favorite books to him, cooking meals for him, even taking baths with him. Jim’s favorite part was when he’d hold him tight, their bodies pressed so close together, it was difficult to tell where one of them ended and the other began. In those moments, all malaise would fade away, supplanted by love, safety, and warmth.

_Tiger. My sweet Tiger. I miss you._

*********

 “Tell me!” Sebastian roared at the man he’d bound to a chair. “Tell me, or I swear to god, I’ll gut you like a fucking fish!”

“I already told you! I don’t know where Moriarty is!”

“Wrong answer.” Balling a fist, he propelled his arm forward and punched the captive square in the nose. A sickly pop could be heard upon impact, followed by a torrent of gushing blood.

The injured man screamed with abandon and fiercely struggled against his restraints. The effort was of little use, though. Moran could tie a knot that even Houdini wouldn’t be able to escape.   

“You want me to stop?”

His detainee nodded affirmatively.

“Then tell me where my hu—” Seb quickly stopped himself from revealing the truth of his and Jim’s relationship. “Tell me where my boss is. That’s all you’ve got to do.”

“I don’t know!” he repeated. “And beating me up sure as hell won’t magically insert the knowledge into my head!”

The sniper growled. He’d been interrogating this individual for over two hours and still hadn’t gotten any information out of him. Perhaps he really was telling the truth.

Scowling bitterly, Seb pulled a blade from his back pocket. The other man’s eyes widened at the sight, but relaxed once he realized his bindings were being sliced through. At last, he could move freely.

“Get out,” the assassin ordered through gritted teeth.

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t thank you for the reprieve.” The battered man exited Sebastian’s office, shutting the door with a slam.

Moran began tearing the room apart in frustration. Chairs, bookshelves, and glassware went flying as his emotions violently spewed forth.

He _hated_ this. Jim had been missing for five days and he was still no closer to finding him. It was maddening, heartbreaking, and made him feel utterly useless.

Seb was trying his damnedest. Since the kidnapping, he’d systematically worked through his list of suspects, hunting them down and applying interrogation when necessary. To maximize efficiency, he enlisted the help of select members from his sniper team. They were tasked with tracking suspects who were based outside of Great Britain. Once located, the potential stalkers were briefly surveilled for signs of suspicious behavior. If they displayed even the vaguest hint of peculiarity, they were brought to him for one-on-one questioning.

So far, nothing panned out. He’d exhausted the roster of living individuals, leaving only those whose statuses were undetermined. Seb had hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Searching for MIA sharpshooters was akin to finding a needle in a haystack. Though not impossible, it would take far more time than he had to spare. If he didn’t rescue Jim soon…

 _Oh, Magpie._ Sebastian wasn’t prone to tears, but when he thought about his mate and what he might be going through…well, it took tremendous fortitude not to break down right there on the spot.

Today was almost too much for him to bear. When he first got up and checked his phone, he received a calendar alert stating that Jim had a doctor’s appointment at 2 p.m. His heart sunk immediately. He recalled how much the Irishman looked forward to his prenatal visits, always eager to see the twins on screen and get new printouts for the baby book he was compiling. Their unborn children brought out a kind of pure, undiluted happiness in him that Seb had never seen before. It was beautiful. But now, knowing his beloved would miss today’s appointment, he was intensely saddened.

Things only got worse when he arrived at headquarters. People at the office were acting strangely. There were awkward glances and whispers that died down when he came into earshot. It was infuriating. He wanted to know what the hell was going on.

In an effort to gain insight, he requested an impromptu meeting with Suzy, Jim’s longtime secretary. If something was abuzz, she’d surely be aware of it. What the woman relayed to him was appalling. The consulting criminal’s pregnancy had become an open secret, and with his recent disappearance, gossip spread like wildfire. Apparently, the popular theory was that Moriarty had run off somewhere to have a late-term abortion.

Seb was mortified. Not only had his mate been taken against his will, but he now had to suffer the indignity of slander in absentia. This defamation felt especially cruel, considering how deeply Jim wanted their babies. To suggest otherwise was a slap in the face.

He yearned to set the record straight, but knew he didn’t dare. The truth would raise questions that he was unprepared to answer. So he stuffed his anger down, something he’d become quite adept at.

The sniper stood back and surveyed the shambles of his office. He hadn’t trashed a place so thoroughly in ages. It seemed oddly fitting that the room now mirrored how he felt inside— broken and chaotic, in dire need of repair.

The fact of the matter was that he had no solace without Jim. No reason to crack a smile or enjoy a sunset. No reason to gaze at the stars or even get out of bed. Life itself rang hollow in his absence. It was just like the fall at St. Bart’s all over again.

_But it’s not Jim’s fault this time, and you can still fix it._

Sebastian refused to lose faith. He _would_ find his husband if it was the last thing he ever did.

*********

Moriarty curled into a ball on the cold cement floor. He’d endured untold hours of tedium and pain, and expected that to be the extent of the night’s activities. He was mistaken.

The door at the top of the steps creaked open. Jim gasped, hoping against hope that it was his darling Tiger who’d come to liberate him. Any such ideas were dashed, however, the moment he got a good look at the man.

Tall and muscular, he shared a similar build as Sebastian, but that was where the likeness ended. This individual was nowhere near as handsome, sporting much gruffer, grizzlier features. He also bore a cold, dead-eyed stare. It was reminiscent of…

_The phantom from my nightmare._

In a flash, the mastermind’s heart began to pound. If his blood pressure was high already, it now rocketed off the charts. He couldn’t breathe, either. Tunnel vision set in, and all he could think of was how much the man descending the stairs reminded him of the murderous apparition he’d seen in his dream.

Jim’s nerves were absolutely shot. By the time the kidnapper reached him, his world went dark. Panic-stricken and ill, he slipped into unconsciousness. The last thing he heard before going under was the cruel laugh of his captor. It was a sound that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	21. Know Your Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has a face-to-face confrontation with his stalker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“If I’d known you passed out so easily, I wouldn’t have bothered with the chloroform,” a brusque voice taunted.

The Irishman’s eyes fluttered open and his vision came into focus. He quickly realized he was staring at the face of his stalker-turned-kidnapper. It was no one he recognized. “Who are you?” 

“Colin Taylor, former marksman and surveillance expert for the British Army.”

“You were in the military?” Jim asked. Now was the time to glean as much information as he could. If he kept him talking, then maybe he could find a way inside his head, and ultimately, devise a plan of escape.

“For a dozen years, I was. Nearly made a career out of it before changing paths.”  He moved to sit on a folding chair across from his captive.

 _There wasn’t any furniture here before,_ Jim observed. _He must’ve brought it down with him just now._

“Why the switch?”

Colin paused, ruminating over the question. “Because everything good in my life died,” he finally answered. “I probably should have too, but I didn’t. Not on the outside, at least. But that’s okay, because I found a new purpose for my continued existence.”

“Which was?”

“Retribution.”

“You mean terrorization.”

He shrugged. “Call it whatever you like. In the end, the result will be the same.”

“And what, pray tell, might that be?”

“Death.”

 _Dear god, my nightmare is coming true._ The mastermind was petrified, but would not allow his fear to show.

“You’ll never get away with it,” Jim coolly stated.

“Won’t I? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re alone here. I’m getting away with it as we speak.”

The consulting criminal snorted. “Sebastian will come for me, and when he does, he’ll snuff you out. That, I guarantee.”  

“I’d like to see him try. I’ve got quite a score to settle with your husband.”

“If this is between you and him, why involve me? Why involve our children, for that matter?” Jim had a pretty good idea as to his motivation, but he needed to keep the conversation flowing in order to figure out how to best manipulate him. 

“I think we both know the answer to that one,” Colin said with a smirk. “I can hurt him through hurting you.”

“Targeting a pregnant person is fucking low. You’re a bloody sick bastard.” 

“Glass houses, Moriarty. I hardly think you’ve room to judge. I know you’ve threatened children.”

Jim grew very flustered. Yes, the accusation was true. He’d learned long ago that children were excellent “pressure points.” Oftentimes, the easiest way to get someone to comply was by going after their progeny. 

But he never _really_ hurt a child. Threats were all it amounted to. Even when he had explosive vests strapped to youngsters backs and snipers aimed at infants, he wouldn’t have truly ordered their deaths. He controlled those situations, and the tactics used were merely meant as compelling incentives.  

“I’ve never killed a child,” Jim angrily spat. “But you’re well on your way.”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Spare the dramatics, princess.”

“This isn’t drama, you fucking moron! This is reality!” the Irishman yelled. “I’m supposed to be on medication! The babies and I could die without it.”

“Cry me a river. I’m not a walking pharmacy.” 

Jim glared at his abductor with burning rage. The initial fear he’d held for the man transformed into fury. He wanted to lunge at him as far as his shackle would allow. Wanted to choke him out and tear him to pieces. But he couldn’t. For the sake of Essie and Eddie, he had to exercise self-control.

The mastermind took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. He mentally noted that it was becoming increasingly difficult to steady his breathing. For now, he had to ignore it and power through his ills. 

“Soooo,” he drawled, “what’s your grievance with Seb?”

“The short version is, he ruined my life.”

“Sebastian’s ruined a lot of people’s lives, I’d wager. You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“Fair enough,” the man agreed. “I’m sure he’s mentioned the name Marguerite de Graaf at some point? Or perhaps simply Margo?”

“No, he never has.”

“Think about it for a minute. Are you certain?”

“I’m positive. She’s clearly not important to him, whoever she is.”

Jim’s blunt response seemed to upset his kidnapper. _Good,_ he thought. _Now we’re getting somewhere._ This was exactly the kind of emotional trigger he could use against him.

“She,” Colin stressed, “was a bloody amazing woman. Moran was lucky to have known her.”

 _Ooh, past tense?_ He could definitely work with this.

“Dead, is she? Too bad,” he flippantly remarked. “But that’s what people _do._ Having served in the military, I’d think you’d be used to it.”

“Shut your filthy mouth! What do you know about women or love? Nothing. You’re just a fucking poofter.”

“Excuse me?” Moriarty’s barely suppressed anger was rising dangerously close to the surface. His captor had said the absolute wrong thing to him. “Not that I have any reason to justify myself to you, but for the record, I’m _very_ happily married. So actually, I know quite a lot about love.”

Colin laughed derisively. “Yeah, right. What the two of you have isn’t a real marriage. It’s a goddamn freak show.”  

“How _dare_ you,” Jim spoke, his voice low and ominous. “How DARE YOU!” he repeated, shouting loud enough to make the other man flinch. “You couldn’t even begin to fathom the depths of our relationship.”

“You’re setting yourself up for disappointment with Sebastian Moran.”

“Bollocks. My husband is the most loyal mate you’ll ever find.”

“Oh yeah? The cold corpse of my wife would disagree.”

He considered his stalker’s words. “What are you trying to say here? Stop being vague and spit it the fuck out.”

“I’m saying that our spouses were involved, and my wife is gone forever because of him.”

Jim wasn’t sure how much more bullshit he could take from this lunatic. But he wanted to make damn certain he understood the charges being leveled against Seb.

“Start from the beginning,” he instructed. “When was this involvement meant to have taken place?”    

“Fifteen years ago. Moran and I were in the same regiment together,” he explained. “We hit it off right away. He was cleverer than most and a hell of a shot. I admired him.”

“How adooorable,” Moriarty mocked. “Sounds like you had a bit of a crush.”

Colin sneered. “Hardly. I did think of him as a friend, though, which is why I introduced him to Margo. Worst mistake of my life.”

“No, dear. Your worst mistake was stalking and kidnapping me. But do go on.”

The former military man scowled at the interruption. “As I was saying, I introduced Sebastian to my sweet Marguerite, and that was the beginning of the end. They started meeting in secret…carrying on behind my back. I hadn’t a clue what was going on until it was too late,” he recalled. “By the time I knew, he’d been booted from the army and disappeared without a trace.”

Jim stared at him blankly. “So Sebby fucked your girlfriend ages ago and then skipped town. I fail to see how he had anything to do with her death.”

“Seb had _everything_ to do with it. He seduced Margo— made her fall in love with him. But he was just stringing her along. She was little more than a notch on his bedpost,” Colin rued. “After he left, she wasn’t the same. And when she realized he wasn’t coming back…” he trailed off, stilled by the sadness that crept into his heart. “She tried to kill herself.”

The consulting criminal sighed. “Booooring. Tell me there’s more to this sob story or I’m going to be sorely disappointed at how you’ve wasted my time.”

“Actually,” he said sharply, “there _is_ more. Margo recovered and I married her. Took care of her when no one else would. We were mostly happy, too. Except she never really got over Moran. It was like he’d stolen a piece of her and she wasn’t whole anymore. Fool that I am, I thought things might improve if we started a family. Figured it would give her something else to focus on.”

Colin and Jim locked eyes, and suddenly the mastermind was very curious as to where the tale was headed.

“Margo got pregnant,” he continued. “I was thrilled. I thought she was, too, but…”

“But what? Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“She killed herself proper that time. No coming back.” The words hung in the air, neither of them saying a thing under the weight of his confession.  

Finally, Moriarty spoke. “Listen, I’m sorry that happened. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a total bastard— I can appreciate your loss. But I don’t see what this has to do with my husband. Clearly, his and your wife’s affair was in the past. It sounds like they didn’t even have contact after he was discharged from the army. So what’s this vendetta of yours about?”

“Well, you see, there was a note left behind. In it, she made clear that the only man she ever truly wanted was Sebastian. She tried to pretend otherwise for my sake, but it ate at her until there was nothing left,” he sullenly recounted. “The final straw, by her own admission, was falling pregnant with a child that wasn’t his. She couldn’t abide it.”

Hearing the man’s sad saga, one aspect became apparent to Jim: Seb was _not_ responsible for Colin Taylor’s troubles. He merely needed someone to blame.

“You’ve been dealt a lousy hand in life, that much is undeniable,” the genius began, “but what happened to your wife wasn’t Sebastian’s fault. Maybe he did shag your lady and leave town. But that’s _all_ he did. Anything after that was her choice.”

The man rose to his feet and growled, angrily flipping his chair. “No! That son of a bitch ruined her! Ruined our future!”

“Obviously, Margo was unstable— a trait you seem to share.”

The two men stared daggers at each other. If looks could kill, they’d have both been rendered lifeless on the spot. 

 “We’re done for now,” Colin declared, turning toward the steps.

“Wait!” Jim called out.

“What?”

“I haven’t eaten anything since you took me,” he said. “I _need_ food. My babies have nutrition requirements that aren’t being met.”

“Tough shit.”

“Come on!” the Irishman pled. “Hate Seb and I all you want, but don’t take it out on our children. They’re innocent. They don’t deserve this!”

“My child didn’t deserve to die either, but he did,” the stalker coldly replied. “Frankly, I couldn’t care less if those bastards in your belly wither into nothing.” At that, Colin stomped upstairs, not even bothering to give his captive a second glance.

Jim screamed in frustration before curling into himself. He needed to find a way out of there _soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	22. A Letter to His Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Jim’s absence, Sebastian discovers a hidden letter his husband wrote.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian sat on the living room floor, his back against the coffee table as he watched flames dance in the fireplace. There was a hypnotic quality to the flicker and flow, making it easy to lose oneself in the sight.

The assassin absently took a swig from a half-drained bottle of scotch. He’d started drinking when he first came home and never stopped. That was the regular routine of late. His days were consumed by the pursuit of Jim, while his nights devolved into a liquor-soaked blur.

 _Shakespeare was right,_ he thought. Sad hours did seem long. During those lonely stretches, all he could think about was his husband. Where was Jim? What was he doing? Moreover, what condition was he in?

Moran worried for his mate’s well-being. The mastermind had left his medication behind when he rushed out after their quarrel. That was a little over a week ago. How much had his blood pressure gone up since then? He remembered how sick Jim was at the hospital. Was he suffering like that again now? Left unchecked, had it gotten worse? Seb didn’t want to dwell on the implications, but he wondered if…

 _No!_ Jim had to be alive. They’d persevered through such hardship across the years and managed to come out stronger for it. This couldn’t be the final act of their story, especially not now that they were expanding their family. There was so much more living they had yet to do.

The house felt empty without his Magpie. Despite what some might assume, theirs was a surprisingly loving relationship, and with it, every room held precious memories. He recalled stolen kisses in the library after Jim had summoned him to retrieve a book from the top shelf. He remembered raucous laughter after they attempted a spaghetti squash recipe, only to have it explode inside the oven. Perhaps above all else, he reminisced over the small intimacies they shared— little things like touches, caresses, and tenderness that no one would’ve believed Moriarty capable of.

There was one area he dared not tread— the nursery. Jim and his late interior designer had done a fine job decorating the space, transforming an extra-large hobby room into lavish sleeping quarters for the twins. It was exquisite. But…

 _I can’t face it without you, Jimmy._ He took another drink and stood up, stumbling slightly. He faltered down the hall, gripping the wall for balance. Eventually, he reached his target destination: Jim’s office.

Stepping inside, he made a beeline for the desk. He knew what he wanted…what he _needed._ The picture. He had to see it again.      

Seb pulled his spouse’s keepsake box from the drawer it resided in. To think he’d worried about how Jim would react upon seeing that he picked the lock. Now he’d give anything to have the Irishman walk through the door and yell at him for it.

He retrieved their framed wedding photo from the assortment of items, running his fingertips along its glass surface. Moran smiled faintly at the smudges left behind. That was another transgression he could imagine Jim chiding him for. Once again, it was the small things Sebastian missed most.

The sniper gazed longingly at the picture in his hands. “Until death do us part,” he whispered. They vowed to never give up on each other, no matter what. Seb was determined to honor that pledge.   

*********

Sebastian was woken up by the sound of a loud crack. He lifted his head from the desk and blinked several times before regaining his senses. He realized he must’ve fallen asleep right there in the office. Then he looked down and was aghast.

 Shattered glass littered the floor beneath him. Not only that, but the photograph laid there as well, covered in sparkling fragments. In his inebriated state, he’d nodded off while still clutching it. This was the end result.

“Oh no,” Seb muttered sadly. He moved to sit on the ground, cradling the picture. Sharp bits dug into his skin, and a part of him thought he deserved the pain. 

It was then that he finally broke. Unable to suppress his anguish any longer, the assassin cried. Hot tears spilled over the loss of Jim, and by extension, their children. He blamed himself for everything. Instinct reinforced his guilt, telling him he was an abject failure. He’d had one job— to protect his pregnant omega— and he couldn’t even manage that. He was unworthy of calling himself an alpha. 

Amid the flurry of emotions swirling in his head, he noticed something strange. It appeared that a letter had fallen out from the back of the picture frame. Curious, he picked it up.

 _‘To My Dearest Sebastian, on His 40 th Birthday,’ _the envelope read, penned in Moriarty’s unmistakable calligraphy-style script.

Now he was really intrigued. Should he open it? He almost felt obligated to, but…would Jim want him to see it so early? His birthday wasn’t for a few more weeks, and clearly the man had gone to great lengths to hide it.  

Something dawned on the sniper. _Hide it,_ he thought. _Hide it._ Could this have been the handwritten document he’d seen his Magpie stash away? He had to find out.

Liberating the letter, he began to read:

_My Darling Tiger,_

_It occurs to me that I don’t tell you often enough how much you mean to me. Feelings aren’t something I’ve ever been accustomed to expressing, but on today of all days, I think I owe you the truth._

_For most of my life, I was alone. I’d like to say it was by choice, but honestly, I just didn’t connect with anyone. How could I? Everyone seemed so ungodly dull. So ordinary, I’d sooner slit my wrists than remain in their acquaintance._

_I took it in stride— decided I didn’t need other people. I rejected commonly accepted notions of love. Relationships were liabilities and romance was folly. I refused to fall prey to such utter nonsense. No one would ever get to me, I was sure of it._

_And then I met you. Sebastian Augustus Moran, former colonel and expert marksman for the British Army. Thought I’d put you on my payroll and that would be the end of it. I should’ve known better. From the very first time I laid eyes on you, I was hooked. All it took was one glimpse at that tall, taut body, strawberry blonde hair, and sexy smile. I was a goner before you’d even opened your mouth to speak._

_In the beginning, I tried to write off my feelings as mere lust. You were, and still are, an incredibly attractive man. It was only natural I’d want to shag you morning, noon, and night. I rationalized it as making perfect sense._

_But it didn’t stop there. I started to wonder what you were doing when I wasn’t around. I wished I could see you during those times apart, and found myself wanting to spend many of my free moments with you. I often imagined us doing “normal,” non-work related activities together. Things like going to the cinema, attending art showings, and visiting my favorite planetarium. I never desired to share my private life with anyone like that before._

_And you stuck by me. Proved yourself over and over again. I expect my bodyguards to put their lives on the line, but you went above and beyond to keep me safe. I noticed that. Noticed your unwavering loyalty, and was more touched by it than I ever let on. You were my trusted protector from those who sought to harm me, and in a sense, you became my alpha long before we ever made it official._

_I’m so glad I decided to take a chance on us. Dating was new and exciting, and a tiny bit frightening. All worth it, though. Our love has served as a source of strength, sustaining me during dark times._

_I know you hate it when I bring up our 2-year separation, but honestly, it was then that I realized just how deeply my affections ran. Everything seemed hollow without you by my side. Days drug on in endless grey and the nights were even worse. I tried to keep myself as busy as possible in order to avoid going to bed. What had once been a place of solace and sleep became a torture…a cold and empty hell from which there was no escape. It was unbearable, and I swore that when we reunited, I would never let you go._

_Words cannot fully convey how happy you’ve made me during the course of our marriage. I’m not an easy man to deal with— far from it. Somehow, though, you always know the right things to say and do. You’re a charmer, my darling husband, through and through._

_Lately, family has been at the forefront of my mind. At one time, I didn’t care that I had no living relatives. Since becoming pregnant, however, a part of me wishes I had more to offer our children in that regard. I’d like to present them with some kind of roots through which they might find a sense of comfort and belonging._

_This is where my gift to you comes in, Tiger. All those years ago, when we first got together, I remember you telling me about your troubled home life. We were similar on that account. Me, with no family to speak of, and you, with only one blood relative— an estranged sibling whom you hadn’t seen since you were a teenager._

_Well, I’ve done something wonderful, Sebby. I used my wealth of resources to find your brother, Severin. You won’t believe this, but he’s working as a pediatrician in Australia. More specifically, Dr. Moran is a neonatal specialist at The Royal Melbourne Hospital. He was surprised by my call, but quickly warmed to the idea of reconnecting with you. He’s got a wife and daughter of his own, meaning our babies have a cousin. Isn’t that exciting? I can’t wait to see how they interact together._

_I was able to meet with Severin a handful of times this past month while he was attending conferences in London and Edinburgh. I intend to conduct further dealings with him soon, as he’s planning on staying a few extra weeks to tour the local med school circuit. I only wish he’d still be here for your birthday. Unfortunately, he’s committed to hosting a children’s charity benefit back in Australia at that time. But no worries, Tiger— we’ll find a way to join up eventually. I’ll make sure of it._

_I think I’ve said everything I wanted to. Happy birthday, my love. Here’s to many more._

_Forever Yours,_

_Jim_

“Oh God,” Seb spoke, staring down at the letter in his hands. The sniper was overwhelmed by the sum of what he’d just learned. There was so much to absorb.

Suddenly, he was struck by a startling realization. The night Jim had come home smelling like another alpha, he'd said he met with an Australian. The scent on him was incredibly familiar, too. Now Sebastian knew why. _It was Severin._

Moriarty also smelled of him right before they’d gotten into their fight. _When I accused him of being untrustworthy,_ he sadly recalled.

In that moment, the guilt Moran felt was crushing. _What have I done? Oh Jimmy, please forgive me._

He needed to make this right through any means necessary. Needed to fix this utterly fucked up situation once and for all. His next move would be critical in the plot to bring Jim home.

Seb pulled out his phone, preparing to make a call. _For you, Magpie,_ he thought. This was his last resort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	23. A Caged Bird Dreams of Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim takes matters into his own hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There's some homophobic language from the antagonist in this chapter. He's a rotten guy.
> 
> *****************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

The basement door swung open. “I’ve got a surprise for you, princess!” a voice boomed from the top of the steps. It was Colin.

Jim glanced up, but did not move from his curled position on the floor. These days, he spent a majority of his time in that particular stance.

The kidnapper stomped downstairs, and it was then that Moriarty caught full view of him. What he saw was decidedly unnerving. Colin had a woman limply slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“I brought someone to keep you company,” he said, flashing a sinister grin. He unceremoniously dumped the body onto the cold concrete. Jim instantly recognized who it was. 

“Lisa,” he gasped. Lying before him was the corpse of his interior decorator. Ever since the incident with the box, he’d wondered what had become of her remains— now he knew. This sick fuck had held on to them.

“That’s right. The bint stored remarkably well in my freezer. Looks as good as the day I snapped her neck.”

“You’re a twisted son of a bitch!” Jim spat. “She didn’t do anything to you.”

“She associated with the likes of Moran. That’s reason enough to die.”

As Colin got closer, the consulting criminal could smell the strong stench of alcohol wafting off him. “You’re fucking drunk.”

The man laughed. “Yes, I suppose I am,” he admitted. “And you’re a sodding abomination, so I guess we’re even.” He cackled again, apparently finding himself humorous.

“Piss off,” Jim hissed. He was in far too much pain to deal with the lunatic’s remarks.

“You know, Seb wasn’t queer when I knew him,” Colin slurred, ignoring his abductee’s dismissal. “I think you turned him into a fucking fairy.”

The mastermind glared harshly. “You’re a fool if you believe that. Sebastian’s always been bisexual, even back then.” It was true. Years ago, when they first started dating, he’d told him of his lifelong duel desires. Jim couldn’t exactly relate, having never been especially interested in women, but he didn’t begrudge Seb’s proclivities so long as the sniper was faithful to him while they were together. 

“Bullshit,” the inebriated stalker replied. “ _You_ did it. You and your deviant ways.”

Moriarty rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Unless you intend to free me or feed me, this conversation is done.”

“No! I say when we’re through, not you,” he bleated. “You think you’re such hot shit, don’t you? You think you’re better than me.”

Jim smiled confidently. “Honey, I don’t just think it. I _know_ it.”

Right then, the man reached down and grasped the genius by his throat, forcibly pulling him up into a standing position.

“I’ve fucked plenty of omegas. Dozens of them. Granted, they were all women, but still. You’re nothing special.” He released his grip and roughly shoved Jim back against the wall. Panting and dizzy, the prisoner slid down and sat on the floor once more.    

“Look at you,” Colin sneered. “Pathetic.”

“Going after a pregnant person is what’s truly pathetic,” Jim venomously declared. “You call me an abomination? You’re the real disgrace.”

The drunken abductor growled and motioned to kick his hostage, but Moriarty rolled out of the way. Colin’s foot connected with the cement wall, causing him to shout a stream of obscenities.

Jim laughed. “You fucking idiot. I can’t wait until Sebastian kills you.”

“It’s already been eight days,” the man remarked. “I’m beginning to think Moran may have lost interest.”

“Never,” the mastermind spoke. “He would never stop looking.” Sebastian’s love for him was unconditional. He’d go to the ends of the earth to get him back. _And maybe,_ Jim slyly thought, _I can get out of this on my own._

The dark-eyed omega was hatching a plan. He knew that Lisa, his interior decorator, frequently wore her hair in a ponytail. In fact, she was sporting one now. This was significant because she often hid bobby pins beneath her updo, not wanting the clips to be seen. They were easy to miss due to their discreet placement and the way that their color blended in with her long, thick tresses. If she was wearing them at the time of her death, there was a good chance Colin may not have even noticed. And in that case… _I could use one to pick the lock on this bloody shackle._

Moriarty had to be certain a pin was available before making any sudden moves. He’d need to get close enough to Lisa to check. But how would he manage it without his captor growing suspicious? Suddenly, he had a wonderful, wily idea.       

Jim scooted over to the woman’s lifeless frame. Looking down at her, he took a breath, steeling himself for what was sure to be an award-worthy performance.

“Oh, Lisa,” he uttered in a forlorn tone. “It isn’t fair what’s happened to you.” He gently stroked her cheek as he willed tears to form in his eyes.

Colin snickered contemptuously. “Seems the infamous James Moriarty’s gone soft. Must be all those hormones at work.”

Ignoring the snide comment, Jim gingerly slipped a hand under Lisa’s head, feeling around for the telltale bump of a bobby pin. From an onlooker’s perspective, it would appear that he was simply cradling her head in a tender gesture.     

“You deserved better than this,” he said. “Your talents were a gift to the world.”

 _Bingo._ Jim felt at least two pins embedded close to the dead designer’s scalp. Now he just had to find a way to remove one, straighten it, and pick his restraints while remaining undetected by Colin.

A thought occurred to him: he’d also have to contend with the basement door. The genius was fairly certain it was being kept bolted when his abductor wasn’t downstairs with him. This meant that he didn’t have the luxury of waiting until Colin was gone to make his escape. He had to act while the madman was present in order to assure that the door would be unlocked.

The consulting criminal knew what he must do— he only hoped he had the strength to pull it off. A week without food or medication left him in markedly poor health. What he was about to attempt next would require agility he wasn’t sure he still possessed. But he had to try for his children’s sake. Had to at least make the effort.   

“Is this what Margo would’ve wanted?” Jim asked, knowing what a touchy subject the woman was for his stalker. He sought to get a rise out of him. Make the man angry enough to storm off. Then, once he turned his back to leave, he’d attack. The mastermind only had one shot at this, so he had to be precise.

“Margo would’ve wanted to live,” Colin gruffly replied.

Moriarty shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. She died by her own hand, did she not?” he pointedly observed. “Seems to me, she chose death over the unenviable task of bearing your seed.”

“Shut up!” he barked, his agitation rising.

“Why should I? You wish to silence me because I speak the truth?”

“Just shut your filthy gob! I won’t warn you again.” The man glowered furiously at his captive.

“Ooh, big man, threatening a pregnant omega you’ve chained up in your basement,” he taunted. “What do you do for an encore, kick the cane out from under an old woman crossing the street?”  

“Fuck you,” Colin answered. “Let’s see how mouthy you are after I keep you down here for another week. Enjoy the dead girl’s company,” he said, motioning to Lisa. It was then that the kidnapper finally did what Jim was waiting for— he turned his back to walk away.

Now it was time to act. Jim swiftly gathered up a length of his chain and swung it around Colin’s neck from behind. Using every ounce of strength he could muster, he pulled the metal tether tight. The man gurgled as the life was choked out of him.  

Colin attempted to knock Moriarty down, but Jim stayed a step ahead. The consulting criminal latched onto the larger man’s back, gripping him around the waist with his legs while he continued garroting him with the chain. It was a potent combination, and soon the kidnapper lost balance and fell to his knees.

Jim shifted his weight, forcing Colin into a prone position. He sat on his back, relentlessly pulling the chain. The fierce omega refused to stop until the other man’s body stilled.

When he thought it was safe to get up, he returned to Lisa and plucked a bobby pin from her hair. Moriarty made short work of straightening the implement and proceeded with the lock. It’d been a while since he last employed his picking skills, but one never really forgot the mechanics of it.     

“Yes!” he exclaimed as the shackle popped open.

This was the freest Jim had been in eight days, and he wasn’t about to dawdle. He ran up the steps, taking them two at a time, and barreled through the door. At last, he got a look at the upstairs.

Colin’s house was wholly unremarkable. But the Irishman wasn’t there to judge aesthetics. No, he was checking the place for a phone.

 _Nothing…not even a mobile device,_ he conceded, coming up fruitless in his effort to find some means of calling for help.    

Thinking fast, he grabbed a large knife from the butcher’s block in the kitchen. He figured he’d need protection for the next phase of his escape plan: to venture into the unknown of whatever lay outside.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	24. Strange Bedfellows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In his continued quest to find Jim, Sebastian turns to an unexpected source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Open up!” Sebastian demanded, pounding on the door at 221B Baker Street. “I know you’re in there!”

The wooden entrance creaked open slightly. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” a tired and annoyed voice asked. It was John Watson.

“I don’t care how late it is. I need a meeting with Sherlock.”

“Bugger off,” the man said, motioning to close the door.

Sebastian quickly wedged his hand between the door and its frame, stopping it from shutting. “I need to see him _now._ ”

“He’s not interested in dealing with James Moriarty’s cohorts.”

“Oh? Making decisions for him, are we?”

The former army doctor let out an aggravated sigh. “I won’t tell you again. Go, or I’ll call the police.”

“I was trying to be diplomatic,” Seb explained, “but if you want to do this the hard way…” He pulled a pistol from his jacket pocket and pushed inside the apartment.

John’s eyes widened. “Put that thing away! My daughter’s asleep in the next room. I won’t have you waving it around with her here.”

Strangely enough, the sniper could empathize with Watson’s request. Now that he was going to be a father soon, he understood the drive to protect one’s offspring. It was a powerful force.    

Seb tucked his gun away. “I’m not looking to hurt anyone. I just want a meeting with Holmes. It’s for a case.”

“A case?” he asked incredulously.  

“Yes. I attempted to contact both of you by phone, but it went to voicemail.”

“We were asleep. That’s something people tend to do at 3 o’clock in the morning. You should try it sometime.”

“Speak for yourself,” another voice chimed in. “You may have been asleep, but I was simply ignoring him.” Sherlock entered the room, eyeing up London’s second most dangerous man.

“We need to talk,” Sebastian stated.

“About an alleged case, yes. I heard what you said to John.”

“Right. Can we sit down for this? It warrants a proper consultation.”

“By all means,” the tall brunette agreed, adjourning to his customary spot. He invited Seb to take a seat opposite him.

John stared agape at his friend, gawking as if the man had just sprouted horns. “You’re not seriously considering helping this bastard?”

“It’s been a boring month,” Sherlock dryly noted. “I could use a bit of entertainment.”

Sebastian disregarded Holmes’s condescending remark and began to describe his and Jim’s situation in earnest. He informed him of their stalker’s continued harassment and of Moriarty’s subsequent kidnapping. He stressed the importance of finding Jim because he was supposed to be on medication, and missing it for over a week could be detrimental to the Irishman’s health.

“I don’t see how any of this is our concern,” John dismissed.

“I would’ve expected that you, as a healer, would take a vested interest in the welfare of another human being,” Seb spoke.  

Sherlock scoffed. “Really, Moran? I’d say any obligation to the Hippocratic Oath is nullified after one attempts to murder a person on multiple occasions. Additionally, you’re operating under the false premise that James Moriarty is human. He is, in fact, more of a spider than a man.” 

Sebastian badly wanted to punch the smug expression off Holmes’s face, but willed himself to refrain. “Even a spider can take a mate,” he said through gritted teeth.

Watson cocked his head, looking at the sniper in stunned surprise. “Wait, are you saying—”

“They’re a couple,” Sherlock blurted out, confirming his friend’s suspicion. “Isn’t that right, Moran?”

He nodded and pulled at the thin chain he wore around his neck, revealing a portion previously hidden beneath his shirt. Old army dog tags hung off it, as well as a ring. It was his wedding band.

“Jim and I have been married for three years,” he confessed. Ordinarily, Sebastian would be hesitant to divulge the truth of their relationship. However, in the interest of rescuing his husband, he was willing to offer Holmes and Watson full disclosure.      

“I don’t buy it,” John declared. “Moriarty is a psychopath. He isn’t capable of love.”

The assassin glared. “Never doubt the depths of our affection. We may be a lot of things, but first and foremost, we’re dedicated to each other.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Sherlock affirmed. “Mr. Moran is an easy book to read.”

Seb snorted at the pat assessment. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely. Even if you hadn’t shared your story, I would’ve been able to glean most of it within a few minutes, tops.”

_Fucking arrogant twat. He’s got Jim’s confidence, but none of his charm._

“I still don’t see any reason why we should help you retrieve him,” Watson maintained.

“Me either,” the consulting detective agreed. “Career criminals beget enemies. It’s the nature of the beast. Your harassment and his kidnapping do not warrant our services.”

Sebastian stared daggers at the two of them, barely suppressing his rage at their refusal. He would _not_ be dismissed. He would gain their assistance one way or another.

“I think it’s time we bid you adieu,” the doctor spoke. “You know the way out.”

“Wait,” Seb beseeched. He had one last chance to convince them to help. If he admitted the final detail, they couldn’t possibly deny him…or so he hoped.

“Jim is with child,” the sniper said. “Or perhaps I should say ‘with children,’ since he’s carrying twins.”

At that news, both men’s faces were matching portraits of bewilderment. _Not such an easy book to read after all, aye Holmes?_

“If you’re going to lie,” Sherlock began, “at least make it convincing. Don’t claim to have twins. It’s never twins.”

“Oh, it’s true, I assure you. We’ve already named them. Estella Sebastienne and Edward James, respectively. Jim likes to call them ‘Essie’ and ‘Eddie.’”

John shook his head. “This is preposterous. You expect us to believe Moriarty would ever willingly bear children? The very notion is absurd.”

“Why is it so difficult to imagine that a happily married couple might want to start a family?” Moran posited. “Isn’t that what people have been doing since the dawn of time?”

“Yes, well, when one half of the couple is a coldhearted monster like Moriarty, the concept becomes less credible.”

_Monster._ It was a term many used to describe Sebastian’s husband, and he hated it. Certainly, his Magpie could be vicious; could be callous to the extreme. But he could be thoughtful, too. Tender, even, to those whom he felt deserved it.

“What about your late wife, John? Mary was a trained killer who undoubtedly committed a slew of heinous acts. Yet she bore Rosie.”

“Don’t you dare compare her to that parasite you’ve aligned yourself with! Mary made an effort to change. But Moriarty? He revels in being a hateful son of a bitch. It’s his pastime.”

“Not the point,” Seb stressed. “What I’m trying to say is that deeply flawed individuals can have babies like anyone else, and those children are innocent. Just as Rosie mustn’t be punished for Mary’s sins, it would be wrong to hold Essie and Eddie accountable for the things Jim and I have done. Hate us all you want— we’ve earned it. But help _them._ ” 

The former colonel’s impassioned plea seemed to have an effect on the men sitting before him. Their looks of contemplation spoke volumes, and Seb was sure he detected a hint of guilt between them. 

“How far along is he?” Sherlock inquired, displaying renewed interest in Moran’s case.

“20 weeks when he was taken.”

“So 21 now. That would equate to approximately five months,” the consulting detective calculated out loud. “Even bearing twins, he should still possess a fair amount of mobility. It isn’t until the third trimester that movement becomes an issue.”

“You stated he was meant to be on medication,” John piped up. “Do you remember the name of the drug?”

“Labetalol.”

“He’s hypertensive, then?”

Sebastian frowned. “Yes. He was hospitalized for preeclampsia two weeks prior to the abduction. The meds were working, but with him being taken off them abruptly…” The sniper hated to think about what havoc had been wrought on his mate’s health in the eight, almost nine, days since his capture.

John’s expression grew dour. “You’re right to be concerned. Those kinds of drugs shouldn’t be stopped cold turkey.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Holmes decreed, usurping control of the conversation. “At 8 a.m. sharp, you’ll bring me everything you’ve got relating to the stalker. This includes the notes and security footage you mentioned. From there, we’ll assess who it is we may be dealing with.”

_He makes it sound so simple. But it’s not. If it were, I’d have my husband back by now._ The assassin’s mind was abuzz, but all he uttered in response was, “Okay.” 

Sebastian showed himself out, preparing to return home. He wasn’t thrilled about having to wait another five hours before continuing the rescue mission, but it did provide an opportunity to rest and recharge. It was probably best that they approach the situation with a clear head.

A pang of sadness washed over the alpha as he drove up to his residence. He used to look forward to walking through the double-door entryway after a long day or night. Without Jim, though, it wasn’t the same. Living there in his Magpie’s absence felt strikingly similar to the aftermath of St. Bart’s. He learned then that a house alone did not make a home— it was the people inside who transformed it into something more.

All Seb had now were empty walls. Fitting, as he too felt like a hollowed out shell. His home and heart lay with Jim. Until he got him back safe and sound, nothing would be right in his world.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	25. Hope amidst the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim journeys into the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Darkness. Abyss. An unending void.

That was what Jim faced upon his escape from Colin’s house. They were apparently situated in a rural area devoid of civilization. The moon and stars were his only guide as he navigated through the night.  

He’d hoped to find a road, a shop, or even a lamppost. Any of those things would indicate that a town was nearby. So far, he’d discovered nothing but abandoned farmland and forest.

_I wish Sebby was here._ His intrepid mate knew his way around Mother Nature’s domain and could easily survive in the elements. Jim, however, had no such instincts.

The mastermind recalled when Seb convinced him to go camping. It took a bit of cajoling, but he finally agreed after being promised s’mores and fireside sex. Oh, what a mixed bag that turned out to have been. Mosquitoes ate him alive, poison oak found a way to his hindquarters, and as a final insult, they were rained out and he slipped in the mud. That part of the trip was abysmal.    

But it wasn’t all bad. Jim did get his s’mores before the storm began. And as for the sex, the wet weather may have put out their campfire, but it couldn’t extinguish the heat that burned between them. They took turns riding each other for hours inside the shelter of their tent. When they emerged after the downpour had passed, a brilliant rainbow shimmered in the sky. It was beautiful.

Jim would give anything to have that rainbow now. To bathe in its comfort, security, and peace. To make a wish that instead of gold, he’d find his sweet Sebastian at the end.  

            *********

Jim had been wandering for about an hour and was beginning to wonder if he might be going in circles. It was possible. Ordinarily, when lost, he would make a point of following the North Star. He’d tried that approach again tonight, but…

_I feel awful._

Adrenaline had allowed the Irishman to make his escape, but the burst of energy proved short-lived. His health issues were catching up to him in a major way. He was dizzy, disoriented, and in terrible pain. For the first time since the kidnapping ordeal began, a tiny part of him questioned whether or not he’d persevere.

_No!_ he reprimanded himself. _Don’t think like that. You’ll get out of this. You’ve got a wonderful husband and beautiful babies on the way. You will prevail._

Then he heard it. A howl and a rustle.

Jim stopped in his tracks, just listening.

There it was again.

_Oh God._ He gripped the knife he’d stolen from Colin’s kitchen, ready to use it if necessary.

The noise was growing nearer. What could it be? Wolves and coyotes were not prevalent in the UK, but there were other creatures that roamed free. Mountain lions were occasionally spotted in the Highlands, and who knew for certain what else might be lurking in the dark of the countryside?

Moriarty set out on a dead run, hoping to put as much distance between himself and the animal as possible. He blindly waved the blade in front of him, unable to see a thing in the pitch black wilderness.

He was running, running, running—

BAM.

In a flash, the consulting criminal tripped over what felt like rocks. The momentum launched him forward a few feet, and he slammed smack-dab into a rotted tree stump. He made contact at an awkward angle, banging both his belly and knee against the wood.

_No! No, no, no!_ He was trying so hard to protect his children, and now he’d gone and fallen. It wasn’t fair.

“Oh, babies. I’m so sorry.” The omega gently rubbed his stomach in a soothing gesture. _Please be okay. Please._ “Daddy loves you.”

Jim let out an agonized gasp when he attempted to stand. His heart sunk as he realized he could put no weight on his leg— it was too badly injured in the fall.

He wanted to cry. Wanted to scream. Wanted to tear apart the bastard who’d put him in this situation. But for now, he needed to regroup.

The Irishman refused to be a sitting duck. It was too dangerous to stay out in the open in his condition. If he was going to survive, he’d have to hide. But where?

From the corner of his eye, he noticed the moonlight hit a patch of land just right. Though difficult to discern, it vaguely looked to be shrubbery.

_Might do in a pinch._ He could honker down among the thicket until sunrise. Then he’d continue to search for a road.

As Jim prepared to crawl into the bushes, he realized his knife was gone. _Must’ve dropped it when I tripped._ He felt around the ground but came up empty-handed.

_No worry. I’ll find it at dawn._ The sun would be up soon. He just had to bide his time.

*********

CLOMP. CLOMP. CLOMP.

Moriarty blinked, his eyes fluttering open in confusion. _What the—_

And then he remembered. _Oh._ He’d been so exhausted, he nodded off while waiting for daybreak.

CLOMP. CLOMP. CLOMP.

A sound became apparent to him. It was the rise and fall of heavy footsteps. They were coming closer with each second.

_Maybe someone’s here who can help,_ he thought hopefully. _I’ll get a ride into the nearest town and call Seb. Then I’ll find food and a doctor. Maybe even—_

His joyful fantasy was cut short when the person stomped into view.

_Colin._

Jim’s eyes widened and he drained white as a sheet. How was this possible? How was Colin still alive?

The genius suddenly became very angry at himself. In his frenzied rush to break free, he’d neglected to check the man’s body for a pulse. It was an amateur mistake— sloppy, incompetent, and wholly beneath him.

_How could I be so bloody stupid?_ he despaired, knowing he’d unwittingly jeopardized his children’s lives.

“Rise and shine, princess!” Colin mockingly greeted. “Sleep well out here?”

Jim glared murderously at his kidnapper. He wouldn’t grant him the satisfaction of a reply.

“Silent treatment, huh?” the man said with a shrug. “Whatever. I don’t give a shit if you talk to me or not. The only thing I’m interested in is hauling you back.”

Colin pulled a thick bungee cord from his jacket pocket. He and Jim locked eyes for a moment, and then he spoke again. “Surprised you didn’t try to run as soon as you saw me. Unless, of course, you _can’t_ run.”

The man swiftly seized Moriarty by the arm, harshly yanking him up to stand. His suspicion was confirmed when the mastermind hissed in pain and immediately dropped to the ground.

The lunatic laughed, putting the bungee cord away. “Guess I won’t need to tie you up after all. Thanks for making this so easy.”

With one fluid movement, Colin snatched up his infirm abductee and slung him over his shoulder. He carried him in much the same manner he had Lisa, a parallel which sent a chill down Jim’s spine.  

_How long until I become a corpse, too?_ The notion was enough to make him wince. Or perhaps his grimace was due to the full-body ache he was experiencing. Either way, the outlook wasn’t good.

  *********

_Maybe I deserve this,_ Jim thought as he sat in the confines of his concrete prison. He never wanted to see that basement again, but there he was, a hostage once more. Colin didn’t bother shackling him this time— he knew his leg injury prohibited him from any further escape. _Is this what they call karma?_

He glanced over at the lifeless form of his interior designer. Remorse wasn’t something the consulting criminal was known for, but even he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt in regard to her fate. Lisa was among the best in her field and had worked day and night to satisfy his every decorating whim. All that effort, and this is how she was repaid. It didn’t seem right.

Moriarty shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position which would elicit the least amount of pain. Everything hurt. At this point, he was fairly certain that the agony was the only thing keeping him conscious. 

He absently placed a hand on his stomach, causing him to flinch. His abdomen was very sore to the touch.

_What the hell?_ Jim pulled up his shirt to inspect the area. He gasped at what he saw. A large, angry bruise marred his belly. It was in the same spot that had banged into the tree stump.

Tears filled the Irishman’s eyes. He didn’t think the impact had been that hard, but the red and purple welt staring back at him disagreed. If it looked this bad on the outside, what damage might it have done internally?

“Essie…Eddie…it’s going to be okay,” he shakily reassured his unborn children.

But would it? Jim was scared. He’d been starved for well over a week, his preeclampsia symptoms had returned, and now he’d suffered a traumatic fall with tender bruising.

Moriarty wept as an onslaught of questions bombarded his mind. _Can Essie and Eddie feel pain? Are they hungry and hurting? Are they dying inside me?_

He would give anything to hear the twins’ heartbeats again. Not being able to listen to them was one of the worst parts of his captivity. After all that had transpired, he _needed_ to hear the sound. Needed to know they were thriving.

“Oh, my little ones…I’m sorry for everything. You’re good babies,” he spoke, hoping they were listening and could understand him. “No, I take that back,” he corrected himself. “You’re not just good babies, you’re the _best_ babies. Daddy loves you so much.” Jim sounded truly broken, succumbing to a sob.

At that moment, something unexpected happened. The mastermind may not have been able to hear his children, but for the very first time, he _felt_ them.

His eyes widened in great surprise at the new sensation. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He’d waited so long for the quickening to occur, and now here it was.

“My darlings, is it really you?” Jim wanted to be sure he hadn’t simply imagined the movement in a fit of hysteria. _Please let it be true._

He felt it again. A tiny kick from within. This _was_ the babies, he was positive of it.

Moriarty’s sadness turned to elation. His children were alive! If he was a religious man, he might’ve praised God for the miraculous event. But he wasn’t religious, and so he simply celebrated the act for what it was— immutable proof of the bond between him and the twins. They were a trinity of sorts; a triumvirate sharing one body. In this knowledge, Jim found renewed strength.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	26. When Past Becomes Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian gets closer to bringing Jim home and makes a surprising discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian sat in the kitchen at 221B Baker Street, nervously nursing a cup of tea. As instructed, he’d brought along everything he had in relation to his stalker. Now he eagerly awaited Sherlock’s assessment of the evidence.

It felt surreal to be sitting in Holmes’s apartment, casually sipping on Earl Grey as if they were old friends or cordial acquaintances. The reality couldn’t be further from the truth. He hated that brainy bastard with every fiber of his being. Hated all the Holmes’s, for that matter. As far as Seb was concerned, the lot of them were nothing but trouble. It was only out of sheer desperation that he sought Sherlock’s assistance.      

The consulting detective hastily entered the room. “You might have mentioned that the notes were written on stationery,” he chided.

“Huh?” Moran wasn’t sure what that had to do with the matter at hand.

“The notes weren’t composed on standard paper,” he stressed, as if it signified something important.

“I didn’t think the aesthetics were relevant.” Indeed, the threats had been made on off-white colored paper featuring a stenciled border. It looked nice. Sebastian, however, was more concerned with the content of the notes rather than their overall appearance.

“They’re relevant when the stationery in question is only sold at one location in the whole of England.”

The former colonel eyed him incredulously. “Only one? How can you possibly know that?”

“I know because it came from an artisan shop that exclusively sells goods designed and produced by local craftspersons. It’s meant to honor creativity within the community, or some such nonsense.”

Seb peered at Sherlock, not fully believing him. “And how can you be sure this is one of their wares?”

“I’ve been to the store it was sold at and I have a photographic memory,” he answered. “Trust me on this.”

“I need more to go on than that.”

“Very well.” Holmes approached a drawer, pulling out a small stack of papers. He dropped the bundle on the table in front of Moran. “Is this proof enough for you?”

The sniper stared at the pile for a moment, then looked back up at the tall brunette. “Where did you get these?” he asked, flabbergasted. It was the same stationery the stalker used.

“At _Eventide’s_ in Ermington. John and I stopped off there while working on a case a few months ago. He picked up this and several other packages of stationery for Rosie to draw on. Personally, I thought giving them to a three-year-old was a bit of a waste, but he seems convinced she’s the next Georgia O’Keeffe.”

Seb was silent, processing the information. _Ermington._ The location sounded familiar, but why? Had he been there before? Passed through it, maybe?

“Where’s this place at?”

“It’s a village in the Devon region. The population is under 900.”

“That should make it a lot easier to track the kidnapper, then. Assuming he lives in or around the vicinity.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Sherlock agreed. “Now the ball is in your court as to how you choose to proceed.”

The assassin nodded. “You’re right. I think I can take it from here.” With such a specific lead to go on, he could handle the rest of the legwork. “Thank you for helping me. If I need anything else, I’ll call.”

“I’m not helping you,” the consulting detective quickly remarked. “I’m helping two children who, though unborn, are already suffering due to the misfortune of their parentage.”

Moran growled, struggling to keep his anger in check. _He can’t even accept a fucking ‘thank you.’ Always has to run his mouth. Fucking wanker._

The fair-haired alpha got up to leave. Before he could open the door, John appeared, heading him off.

“Let us know how things turn out,” the doctor implored. “With the babies, I mean.”

“I will,” Sebastian affirmed. Though nowhere near being friends, the two men could relate on a father-to-father level.

Now it was time to part ways. Come hell or high water, he was determined to find Jim and their stalker by the end of the day.

*********

Since leaving Holmes’s place that morning, Seb had been a busy boy. He contacted a hacker on Jim’s payroll about infiltrating _Eventide’s_ database and sales records. The tech expert was able to gain access relatively quickly. He sent the intel to Moran, who promptly began scouring the logs for any names he might recognize.

So far, nothing. He was starting to grow frustrated. _What if the stalker used a pseudonym? What if he paid in cash, or conversely, simply stole the stationery? There’d be no documentation of that. What if—_

And then he saw it. For once, the universe had finally thrown the former colonel a bone. _Colin Taylor._ Or Captain Taylor, when Seb knew him.

Colin was one of the individuals on his suspect list whose whereabouts were unknown. He hadn’t had contact with the man in years. Over a decade, in fact.

_Why would he take an interest in me after all this time? What grudge does he hold?_ The sniper was genuinely baffled as to why someone from his past would suddenly decide to lash out in such a way.

He thought back to his army days, when he and Taylor were acquainted. The two had become fast friends, working side-by-side as marksmen. They got along splendidly, until the Captain made the mistake of introducing him to his girlfriend, Margo. With sun-kissed hair, porcelain skin, and an outstanding hourglass figure, Marguerite de Graaf was a quintessential Danish beauty. He absolutely had to have her, camaraderie be damned.  

In hindsight, Sebastian deeply regretted his actions. He was a shameless cad for most of his adult life, going from one carnal conquest to another. Sex without attachment was a mainstay until he met Jim. His Magpie stole his heart and he never wanted to be with anyone else again.

_Colin wasn’t supposed to know._ Seb had been sleeping with Margo around the same time he was kicked out of the military. When he skipped town, he still hadn’t confessed the truth to him.

_Could Margo have admitted it?_ It was possible— she was prone to wildly unpredictable behavior. Soon after they began their affair, he realized just how emotionally unstable she was. The woman got attached to people easily and her mood often changed on a dime. He’d actually wanted to break things off with her at one point, but feared that she might harm herself in response.

So many years had passed since then, though. Even if Taylor had learned what they’d done, surely it would be water under the bridge. Why hold on to a grudge like that?

Seb would find out. He would get all the answers he sought, and rescue his husband at the same time. All he needed was an address.

*********

“Stay awake!” Jim demanded of himself. He was panting heavily as he held his head in his hands.

It’d been a bad day for the consulting criminal. Though his babies’ recent movement gave him newfound resolve, his health was in serious decline. He’d begun throwing up at regular intervals— not good, considering the only thing he consumed was water.

This development terrified him. When researching his condition after release from the hospital, he’d discovered that vomiting in association with preeclampsia was a very bad sign. If it got much worse, he risked entering into full-fledged eclampsia and could begin having seizures. At that stage, it would probably kill him.

It was difficult to stay conscious and coherent. He was actively fighting against his own body’s desire to shut down. This was hell, pure and simple.

_Tiger, please find me._ He desperately wanted to see his spouse again. Wanted to touch him, embrace him, and just be near him.

Moriarty felt a small kick. He smiled faintly, knowing it was Essie and Eddie’s doing. Somehow, they seemed able to sense his emotions. He found it strangely comforting.

“You miss Papa, too. I understand.” He placed his hand on a section of his belly that wasn’t bruised. “We’ll be together soon, I promise.”

He registered another gentle flutter from inside. “You like hearing that, huh? Well, then you’re going to love the next piece of news I’ve got,” he proclaimed, not feeling the least bit silly that he was effectively holding a conversation with his stomach.

“In a few weeks, once we’re long gone from this place, we’re going to throw a big party for your Papa. It’ll be on a boat, with lots of music and delicious food.” He paused for a moment, thinking about how wonderful it would be to have something to eat. “Daddy’s even going to bake a chocolate cake. Pastry chefs everywhere will be positively green with envy.”

Jim wanted to keep talking to his children, but he was too winded to continue. There was a certain irony to the fact that he, of all people, was now forced to limit his speech. _Magpie’s not so chatty anymore,_ he somberly thought.

Despite the Irishman’s best efforts to remain cognizant, he grew clammy and his vision blurred. He’d been close to passing out for several hours and could stave it off no longer. Before yielding to unconsciousness, his mind offered a final plea. _Come for us, Tiger. Come for your family._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it seems like I moved away from Sherlock and John rather quickly here, but I promise they WILL return in the next chapter.


	27. Unholy Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian forms an unlikely alliance as he coordinates a rescue mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

At last, Sebastian had it. He possessed his stalker’s home address and then some. The hacker he’d been working with forwarded him a file containing a good deal of information on the man. It was an eye-opening document, to say the least.

Apparently, a year after Seb was booted from the army, Captain Colin Taylor switched his specialty from marksmanship to surveillance technology. That would explain how he’d managed to spy on him and Jim with expert precision, and it accounted for how he’d been able to override the electrical system at Moriarty’s headquarters. Taylor had the training to pull it off.

There was more. The file also indicated that he’d married Margo. Tragically, she died a mere three years after their union. No cause of death was given, but if Seb had to guess, he’d bet it was suicide. The thought saddened him. He knew all too well how painful it was to lose a loved one that way.

Colin left the military not long after his wife’s demise. In fact, it seemed he’d decided to drop out of society altogether at that point. He was reported to have sold off most of his belongings and cut ties with everyone. He moved to a rural property just outside of Ermington, where he’d lived as a virtual hermit ever since. How he supported himself was a mystery, but for someone with his skillset, it wasn’t unheard of to accept under-the-table freelance assignments.

Now was not the time for speculation, though. Sebastian had a rescue mission to commence. He’d be getting his husband back tonight, that much was definite. The uncertainty laid in how he’d go about the operation.

Ordinarily, the intrepid assassin worked alone. Give him a gun and a location, and that’s all he’d need to get the job done. In this case, however, he couldn’t be sure what kind of situation he was walking into. It might be prudent to bring backup.           

Who could he trust to accompany him? He first considered the members of his sniper team. They were an exceptional group of sharpshooters who would act on his command without question. _But…_

What if something went wrong? There was always the potential for a mission to go sideways when unknown variables were at play. Despite Jim’s stance that employees were replaceable, Seb would hate to lose any of his snipers if he could help it. It’d taken him years to assemble a lineup as proficient at the one he had now. He didn’t dare risk them getting killed.

Who did that leave? What other options did he have? There was no time to interview people— this rescue was being undertaken tonight.

An idea popped into Seb’s head. Perhaps he was mad for even entertaining it, but then again, he always had been a bit off kilter. Maybe, just maybe, this would work… 

*********

For the second— technically third— time that day, Sebastian found himself knocking on the door at 221B Baker Street. As was true earlier, John was the one to greet him again now.

“Moran? What are you doing back so soon?”

“I could use a bit more help. Care to let me in?”

At that, Watson cautiously permitted him inside. Sherlock was waiting in the wings. 

“I thought you were going to call if you needed anything else?” Holmes hastily spoke.

“Yes, well, I got the impression that you might hang up on me if I did.”

“You’re cleverer than I pegged you for,” the consulting detective quipped. Coming from him, that was something of a compliment.

“What is it you require?” John asked.

“You,” Seb said. “Both of you, actually.”

The two men eyed him quizzically, unclear as to what, exactly, Moran had in mind.

“Elaborate,” the tall brunette implored.

“I want you to come with me when I confront the bastard who’s got Jim.”

Sherlock snorted in derision. “You can’t possibly think we would agree to that?”

“Does the phrase ‘not a snowball’s chance in hell’ mean anything to you?” Watson chimed in.

Sebastian had expected this. Given the history between all parties involved, of course they’d be resistant. The sniper just needed to make a convincing appeal, much like he had the first time he stopped by.

“John,” Seb began, focusing his gaze intently on the man, “Jim’s going to require medical attention. He’s been off his medication for nine days, and god only knows what other injuries he may have. Not to mention the special care he might need on account of the babies.”

“Couldn’t you bring him to a clinic in the village?”

“Listen to yourself, John— ‘a clinic in the village.’ The medical help in a place as small as Ermington can’t compare to the care he’d receive in London. My objective is to have him treated on the scene so that he’ll be stable enough to bring back to the city, where I can get him checked into a proper facility.”

“I don’t know…this sounds awfully sketchy.”

“Essie and Eddie deserve a fair shot at life. Don’t sell them short.”

“Wanting a doctor on site is one thing,” Holmes interjected. “But what do you need me for?”

“Glad you asked.” Now it was time to turn on that patented Moran charm. “You’re quick-witted and hold up well in tough situations. I could use someone with your talents.”

The duo was silent for a moment, each pondering Sebastian’s proposal.

“All right,” John stated. “In the interest of saving the lives of two children, I’ll come.”

Sherlock peered at his friend in disbelief. “You’re really agreeing to this? Who knows what sort of trap you might be entering into.”

“There’s no deception on my end,” Seb professed. “I’ve offered full transparency. As for what, if any, traps Colin may have devised…well, that I don’t know.”

“Obviously, then, I can’t allow John to go alone. I’ll have to come, too.”

Watson took exception to the consulting detective’s remark. “You ‘can’t allow’ me? Hate to break it to you, but I do have a will of my own.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. Stop squabbling.”

“Squabbling? Please. I’m just trying to establish the fact that I’m perfectly capable of making decisions with or without the Holmes seal of approval.”

Sebastian smirked. Listening to the two of them bicker was rather amusing. They reminded him of an old married couple. No wonder people still sometimes mistook them for life partners.

Eventually, their argument subsided and they began making arrangements. John would have Mrs. Hudson watch his daughter while he and Sherlock rode together. Moran would drive separately, and they’d meet up near Colin’s house, but not directly at his address. This was a rural area they were dealing with— if he saw cars parked outside, he’d know something was afoot. It was best to capitalize on the element of surprise.    

*********

_Ermington._ Seb had thought the name sounded familiar, and as he traveled through the village, he realized why. In the days when he was carrying on an affair with Margo, she’d shown him photos of the place. Specifically, they were snapshots from a favorite family vacation during her childhood. She remembered Ermington very fondly, idealizing it to almost mythical proportions. To hear her describe it, the village was like something out of a storybook, full of rolling hills, songbirds, and sunshine.

_She must’ve told Colin about it, too._ Interesting that he chose to live on the outskirts of the area his late wife adored. Was settling in the heart of Ermington too painful? Is that why he opted to inhabit its fringes instead?         

Sebastian glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was nearly 8 p.m.— approximately 12 hours since he’d vowed to get his husband back within the day. He was about to make good on that promise.

The sniper pulled over to the side of the road, waiting for Sherlock and John. He made the most of his time by double-checking the backpack he’d brought especially for this mission. Among its many contents were extra ammo, rope, mace, a first aid kit, and Jim’s medication. He wanted to be prepared for whatever was thrown at him.

Seb’s backup soon arrived, and the trio embarked on a 300-meter trek to Colin’s house. The night was temperate, but dark as sin. Thankfully, Holmes had come bearing a flashlight to illuminate the way.

The men walked in silence, trying to be as stealthy as possible. While they journeyed amid the countryside, Moran reflected upon how surreal it was to be working with the consulting detective and his close personal assistant. Never in a million years did he think such an alliance would occur.

_Anything for you, my love._ There was no limit to the lengths he’d go to for his Magpie. He’d make a deal with the devil himself if it ensured Jim’s safe return.

Finally, they reached their destination. Remaining hidden behind a thick patch of shrubbery, they surveyed the property in front of them. There really wasn’t much to it. This was no mighty fortress or compound. No, it was just a ramshackle cottage surrounded by forest and farmland. Somehow, Sebastian had been expecting something more grandiose.

_This is the home of the person who’s thwarted London’s most dangerous men at every turn?_ A part of him was ashamed, but then again…

_Evil comes in many forms._ He ought not be lulled into complacency by an innocuous exterior.

Moran stepped back and looked at his begrudging partners. “Gentlemen,” he said, “it’s time to assemble.”             

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	28. A Mission of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue mission is underway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Holmes, I’m going to break the door down while you cover me from behind. Stay alert and keep your gun poised at all times,” Sebastian instructed. “Watson, you wait out here. Don’t come in until we signal you.”

“Why am I being sidelined? I was in the army, too. I can handle myself.”

“It’s nothing personal,” the sniper explained. “You’re acting as our medic. We need you safe and sound so that you can perform to the best of your ability.”

“He’s got a point, John.”

 _Hell has officially frozen over,_ Moran mused. Sherlock Holmes actually agreed with him. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear it was a sign of the apocalypse.

“All right,” the doctor relented. “But if I hear gunfire, I’m going in, signal or not.”

Seb nodded and charged ahead. He kicked the front door open with ease, having executed the maneuver many times before. As luck would have it, he didn’t need to search for his target. Colin Taylor sat right there, paging through a photo album with one hand while brandishing a pistol in the other.

“How nice, I’ve got company,” he said, seemingly unfazed by their brazen entry. “I don’t have much in the way of refreshments, but if you’d like a whiskey, feel free.”

“Let me cut straight to the chase. I’m here for my husband. Where the fuck are you keeping him?”

“So abrasive, Colonel. Mind your manners when you’re in someone’s home.”

“Manners?” Sebastian fumed. “You orchestrated a campaign of harassment and you’ve got the nerve to challenge me on manners? Sod off.”

“It pleases me to know my methods were effective,” Colin smugly replied.

“Stop gloating and tell me where my mate is.”

“You really want to know?” The kidnapper stood and approached Seb and Sherlock. It was a standoff, all three of them pointing guns at each other. “He’s dead, Moran. I killed him.”

For a brief moment, Sebastian’s expression held absolute anguish at the thought of Jim’s demise. Quickly, he forced himself to resume a steely façade. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” the madman countered. “Maybe I strangled him or snapped his neck. Maybe I slit his throat and listened to him choke on his own blood.”

“No, you didn’t,” Holmes asserted. “I can read people extraordinarily well, and everything I’m getting off you screams that that's a lie. James Moriarty is alive and you’re wasting your breath pretending otherwise.”

He snorted. “I beg to differ. It was worth telling just to see the look on Moran’s face.”

Seb growled. “You’re a sadistic bastard.”

“No, I’m simply a proponent of retribution,” the man spat. “My pregnant wife died because of you. It’s only fitting that your spouse should suffer the same fate.”

“Margo was pregnant when she died?” the assassin asked, genuinely surprised. It felt more tragic knowing the loss of life was twofold. “I’m sorry to hear that, Colin.”

“Good. You should be sorry. She killed herself on your account.”

“Oh? How do you figure?” Sebastian was utterly flummoxed by the accusation. He hadn’t seen the woman in years, so how could he be responsible for her death? It didn’t make sense.

“You ruined her mind. Corrupted her.”

“You give me too much credit. Her mind was broken long before I came along.”

Colin glared at him with burning fury. “Don’t you _dare_ disparage my Marguerite,” he warned. “We were happy until you entered the picture.”

“You know what? Carrying on an affair like we did was wrong,” Seb admitted. “But I left town and never talked to her again. So how the hell can you stand there and claim that I had a role in her passing?”

“It’s simple. She never got over you. She was obsessed, pining away for a man who didn’t give a damn. You were her undoing.”

 _So this is why he blames me. He’s missing the forest for the trees._ The man was undeniably insane, but at least now Seb understood his motivation.

“Colin, I know you don’t want to believe it, but I do have an idea of how you feel.”

“You’re right, I don’t buy that for a minute. How could you possibly begin to imagine the loss I’ve suffered?”

“Because I’ve gone through it, too. Jim shot himself and let me think he was dead for two whole years,” the sniper recounted. “It was the worst period of my life, bar none. And even though I thought he’d died by his own hand, I still wanted the lay the blame on someone else.” Sebastian’s eyes shifted toward Sherlock for a split second, before returning to focus on the stalker. “When you lose someone to suicide, there’s a lot of misplaced anger and guilt to go around.”

“In this case, it isn’t misplaced,” Colin hissed. “If she’d never met you—”  

“Then she’d have become fixated on some other guy, and the results would’ve been the same.”

“No! That’s not true!”

“Yes, I’m afraid it is. Margo was a charming, vivacious woman. But she was also fragile and frenetic. Always teetering on the edge of a breakdown.” He paused for a beat, suddenly reminded of his relationship with Jim. “We want to see the best in those we love. It’s all too easy to ignore the flaws.”

At that moment, Moran and Holmes spied something that astonished them both. From seemingly out of nowhere, John appeared in the hallway behind Colin. The duo played it cool, pretending not to notice as he quietly crept up on the madman.

“I…I don’t want to hear this! It’s not the same! You got Moriarty back. My wife is still in a mausoleum.”

Before Seb could respond, John made his move. Using the butt of his gun as a blunt instrument, he bashed Colin in the back of the head. The kidnapper dropped to the floor like a ton of bricks. He was knocked out cold and would probably have a concussion when he awoke.

“John!” Sherlock exclaimed. “What are you doing in here?”

“I hated the idea of standing outside doing nothing, so I decided to inspect the perimeter. There was a window partially open at the rear of the house. I crawled through and took a cursory look around. There’s not much to the place, but I saw a door with a deadbolt on it. I suspect it leads to the basement.”

“That’s probably where Moriarty’s being kept,” the consulting detective noted.

Without hesitation, Seb dug into his backpack and produced a pair of bolt cutters. “Holmes, you take these and get started on the lock. I’ll join up in a minute, after I take care of Colin.”

Sherlock arched a brow. “Take care of him how?” The genius had already gathered Moran’s meaning, but he wanted to hear the sniper say the words out loud.

“You know what I have to do,” he answered sharply.

“I never agreed to help you kill someone. This was intended to be a rescue mission, not an execution.”

“I can’t just let him walk out of here scot-free!” Sebastian snarled. “For fuck’s sake, I thought you understood that much.”

“I’m not suggesting he go free. I propose we restrain him, get Moriarty out of here, and then call the police.”

“Sherlock, this man has tormented my family for _months_. Expressly threatened the lives of Jim and our children. He _needs_ to die.”

“You think this is strictly about you and yours? Hardly. You told me he murdered one of your security guards as well as your interior decorator. Well, the former is inconsequential, seeing as how you destroyed the body. But the latter, Lisa Abernathy, is a different story. I’ve researched the case. She’s considered a missing person. Her parents want to know what happened. If you shoot Colin Taylor now, then we can never point the authorities in his direction and her family will never see justice done.”

“This _is_ justice,” Seb stressed.

“No, this is vigilantism.”

The two stared daggers at each other, neither wanting to back down.

Finally, John spoke. “Can we get on with it, please? Time is of the essence.”

Sebastian growled in frustration, knowing that Watson was right. Every instinct told him to kill Colin, but he didn’t have a moment to waste arguing with Holmes. _Self-righteous son of a bitch._

The former colonel pulled a length of rope from his bag of tricks. If he couldn’t slay the monster in front of him, he would at least make damn sure that the beast was restrained in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. 

*********

“Got it!” Seb announced. The bolt cutters had sliced through the basement lock. With the door now accessible, he rushed downstairs. Sherlock and John followed close behind.

 _Magpie._ There he was, laying in a heap on the cement floor. Moran practically flew to his side, thrilled to see him for the first time since his abduction nine days earlier.

“Jimmy, it’s me! I came for you.”

Jim grunted, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Tiger?” he rasped. “Am I dreaming?”

“No, darling. I’m really here.” He leaned down to kiss him on the cheek, noting the considerable amount of stubble that had grown while he was gone. It was a rarity to see him with that much facial hair.

Seb lovingly placed a hand on Jim’s belly, eliciting an agonized cry from the Irishman. The response alarmed him and got John’s attention as well.

Watson crouched on the ground and lifted Jim’s shirt to get a look at his abdomen. This seemed to startle the omega.

“Noooo…what’s he doing here? I don’t want to see him,” Jim weakly protested.

“It’s okay. I brought him to act as a medic. He’s going to check you out so that you’re safe to travel to a real hospital.”

“Blimey,” John said, taken aback by the large red and purple welt on Jim’s stomach. “That’s one hell of a bruise.” 

Horrified, Sebastian’s jaw dropped at the sight. “Did Colin do this to you?”

“I fell trying to get away. Hurt my leg, too. I…it’s…” Moriarty was fighting to remain conscious.   

“Stay with me, Jimmy,” the assassin urged. “We’ve only just been reunited. I refuse to let you fall sleep on me already.”

“So tired, Tiger…”

“Do something, Watson!” Seb yelled at the doctor. “I won’t let him slip away!”

“I’m trying the best I can.”

John dug into Moran’s medical kit and pulled out a stethoscope. He listened to Jim’s labored breathing and then moved the device down to his abdomen to check on the twins. 

“The fetal heartbeats sound good,” he stated. “Obviously, you’ll have a better idea of how the babies are doing when you can get an ultrasound, but for now, they’re steady.”

Seb was relieved at the news, but still worried about his mate. He’d be glad when he could take Jim out of there and get him proper medical attention.

While the former army men worked on Moriarty, Sherlock’s attention was diverted to the corpse laying several feet from where he stood. “Dear God,” he whispered. The consulting detective recognized who it was not only because of the research he’d done, but also because her hands had been severed. This was the body of Lisa Abernathy. 

“Watson, Moran,” he called out, “we have proof of the decorator’s murder right here.”

John glanced over, now seeing the lifeless woman he’d been too distracted to notice when he first walked in. “My day just gets better and better.”

“This is the perfect opportunity,” Holmes asserted.

“How do you figure?” Watson asked as he strapped a blood pressure cuff on his patient’s arm.

“When we call the police, we can tell them we were investigating Lisa Abernathy’s missing persons’ case. We’ll say we received an anonymous tip indicating she might be here. When we arrived, the cellar was locked. Naturally, that seemed suspicious, and so we forced our way inside. It was then that we discovered her mutilated corpse.” Sherlock paused, pondering the potential cover story. “Yes, that will make for an ideal explanation. Moran and Moriarty needn’t be mentioned at all.”

“Fine,” John replied, sounding preoccupied. The look on his face showed marked concern.

“What is it?” Sebastian inquired. He tried to remain composed, but could not disguise the fear in his voice.

“James’s blood pressure is through the roof. If it isn’t lowered soon, he could die. And I don’t mean within a day or two— I’m talking tonight.”

The sniper felt his heart breaking at the prospect. It was as if his nightmare was becoming a horrifying reality. “I brought his medication. Can’t we give him that?”

“We could administer it, yes, but I honestly don’t think it would be enough. At this point, he should be on an intravenous drug. Additionally, he’s having difficulty staying conscious. Giving someone pills in that condition poses a major choking hazard.”

“So I’ve got to get him to a hospital ASAP.”

“Correct. There’s one more thing I want to check before releasing him, though. It’ll actually go quicker if you help.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Moriarty mentioned hurting his leg. I want to assess the damage,” John said. “I’ll roll up one pant leg while you do the other.”

Seb nodded and did as instructed. With his clothing out of the way, it was clear that Jim’s right leg was twice the size it should be. There was a _lot_ of swelling going on.

“He’ll never be able to stand with that much inflammation. You’ll have to carry him.”

“Not a problem.” These days, he was used to transporting his husband in such a manner.  

“Jimmy, I’m going to pick you up, okay? Then we’re leaving this hell hole for good.”

The mastermind grunted, which Seb took as a sign of approval.

With his backpack strapped firmly on, the fair-haired alpha lifted his mate into his strong arms and proceeded upstairs. When he reached the top of the steps, he turned for a moment to face his unlikely allies.

“Holmes, Watson, thank you for the help. I still disagree with keeping Colin alive, but you did get me this far.”

Moran left it at that. He had bigger things to attend to now. Jim was back, but required serious care. It was up to the intrepid assassin to get him the medical attention he so desperately needed.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT the last we've seen of Colin. He will eventually be dealt with. But for now, I want to focus on the boys being reunited. Give them some much needed one-on-one time.


	29. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is hospitalized following his rescue. Sebastian must explain a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

TICK. TICK. TICK.

Time is a funny thing. It can fly by in the blink of an eye when you’re not expecting it. Conversely, if you stare at a clock, the minutes seem to stretch on at an excruciating rate.    

TICK. TICK. TICK.

Sebastian had languished in the hospital waiting room for over an hour. He wanted to be by his husband’s side, but the doctors and nurses insisted that all non-medical personnel leave the room while they worked on him. They claimed they’d keep him informed of Jim’s status, but so far he’d heard nothing.

_You’ll get through this, Mapgie. I know you will._

Moriarty was in rough shape when the sniper brought him in. Seb raced to the hospital as fast as he could, and even then, it felt like it took too long. He briefly considered calling in a helicopter to have him medevacked over, but quickly nixed the idea once he realized how much undue attention it would create. It was important that Jim maintain a low profile, lest the authorities take an interest.

TICK. TICK. TICK.

 _‘Please be okay’_ became a mantra in his head. If the Irishman didn’t survive, hell would hath no fury like Sebastian Moran. His grief would be epic. Cataclysmic. Transcendent. He’d burn the world down in James Moriarty’s name.

The former colonel was so caught up in thought, he almost didn’t see it when Dr. Sanders, the primary physician who’d been treating Jim, came out to meet him.

“Mr. Jones?” the medic spoke, commanding his attention.

“Yes?” he answered to the pseudonym he’d provided at check-in.

“I’m here to update you on your husband’s condition. We’ve managed to stabilize him, but he’s not in the clear just yet.”

Seb nodded. _At least he’s alive._ That alone was something to celebrate.

“As you’re probably aware, his blood pressure is dangerously high. We’re doing everything possible to bring it down,” the practitioner assured. “Given his previous responsiveness to labetalol, I’ve put him on an IV of the drug. I also administered magnesium sulfate to reduce the likelihood of seizure. Additionally, he’s been placed on a saline drip to combat dehydration and is receiving intravenous vitamins as well. His body is extremely depleted of nutrients. In fact, I don’t believe he’s eaten in at least a week.” The physician paused for a moment to let the information settle. “How long did you say he was lost in the woods? Seven days?”

“Nine,” Sebastian whispered, aghast at the revelation. _Colin starved him. Starved a sickly, pregnant omega. My omega._

Oh, how he regretted leaving their stalker alive. Once again, Sherlock fucking Holmes had found a way to inflict more pain and misery into his life. If he could do it over, he’d have splattered Colin’s brains across the goddamn wall.

“I performed an ultrasound and the twins were fine,” Dr. Sanders continued. “In serious cases of preeclampsia, there’s always the concern of it affecting blood flow and fetal growth, but thankfully, your children are measuring at normal size,” he noted. “As for the fall your mate took, they were unharmed by it.”

“Thank god,” the assassin breathed in relief. “Were they at all impacted by the lack of nutrition?”    

“Not as much as you’d think. During pregnancy, the fetus will take whatever it needs from its host. So even though your husband wasn’t able to eat, the babies were leeching vitamins and minerals from his body in order to sustain themselves. That’s why his system is so depleted right now.”

_My poor Magpie. Giving everything he could to our little ones._

“Finally, regarding your spouse’s leg injury, there don’t appear to be any breaks. We’re dealing with a sprain, which is fortunate, because it yields a quicker recovery period. He will, however, have to stay off his feet for a bit.”

More good news— better than Moran had imagined. At this point, he wanted to shout from a mountaintop that Jim and the babies were okay.

“If you’d like to see him now, you can. Be aware that he’s sleeping, though, and could certainly use the rest.” 

“Of course,” Seb agreed. “I do have one last question.”

“Go on.”

“I was wondering if I could bring him some food? Would that be allowed?”

“I don’t see why not,” the physician replied, “so long as it adheres to a low-sodium diet.”

“Excellent.” The wheels in the sniper’s head were turning. He knew just what Jim would like.

*********

It was the middle of the night when Sebastian entered Moriarty’s private room. He came bearing a number of takeout containers and a folding table brought from home. As he prepared to dish out a feast for them both, he stopped to glimpse his mate. This was the first he’d seen him since being forced to leave his side shortly after check-in.

 _He looks so worn down._ Jim was pale, thin, and hooked up to multiple IVs. It hurt Seb’s heart to witness him in such a state. His deepest instincts commanded him to nurse the Irishman back to health.

Moran began plating a gourmet meal of prime rib, baked potato, and roasted vegetables. Two delectable slices of German chocolate cake would be their dessert.

“It’s time for dinner, kitten.” He gently caressed the slumbering man’s arm and leaned down to place a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

“Mmm,” Jim hummed, slowly stirring. “What…where…” he trailed off, trying to make sense of his surroundings. “This is a hospital.”

“That’s right. I got you out of Colin’s house and brought you here. You’re safe now.”

The expression on Moriarty’s face was a combination of joy and relief. Even in his infirm state, he immediately moved to hug the assassin.    

“I missed you terribly,” the mastermind cooed, finally feeling secure after nine days of torment.  

“I missed you, too. I’d have done anything to get you back.” And in a way, he had, aligning himself with Holmes and Watson for the sole purpose of undertaking a rescue mission.

“It’s good to _be_ back. My body wanted to quit, but I refused to allow it. You and the babies kept me going.” He paused, breaking their embrace to look Seb in the eye. “How are they?”

“Essie and Eddie are doing well. Their size is on target and their heartbeats are steady.”

The consulting criminal took comfort in the news. “I was so scared for them. Petrified they wouldn’t make it,” he confessed, shuddering at the memory. “I…I’m sorry, Tiger.”

“Sorry for what, love?”

“For storming off the way I did. If I hadn’t reacted like that, I never would’ve been kidnapped.”

“And if I hadn’t acted like such an arsehole, you wouldn’t have gone. It’s my fault you left in the first place. I should’ve trusted you, Jimmy.”

The couple gazed at one another for a moment, each realizing that the other blamed himself. Their guilt was a shared burden; a deadlock of sorts. Perhaps, then, they could concede that while both had made mistakes, the true menace was Colin.   

“Sebby? Our stalker…is he…did you…”

The fiercely protective alpha knew what his mate was asking, and he wasn’t sure how to break the truth to him. There really was no way to explain it without admitting everything.

“Magpie, I brought food for us from _The Savoy._ How about I tell you what happened while we eat? No need to let our meal get cold.”

Jim peered at the spread that was set out, having already caught the scent in the air. “Is that prime rib?”

“You know it.” Sebastian smiled and passed his spouse a knife and fork. “There’s no au jus on account of your special diet, but it should still be delicious.”

The genius wasted no time digging in. He audibly moaned upon tasting the first bite. “This meat it so tender, it practically melts in my mouth.”

“It’s damn good,” Moran agreed.

A few minutes went by as the pair enjoyed their indulgent repast. Finally, Jim broached the topic of his rescue again. “So tell me what happened, Tiger.”

This was it, the moment Seb had dreaded. “How much do you remember from when I came to get you?”

“Not a whole lot. I was pretty out of it.”

The former colonel nodded. “I guess it’s up to me to fill in the blanks.” He paused, trying to decide where to start. “I searched for you ever since the night you didn’t come home. I went out investigating. I made phone calls. I even tracked down all the living persons on my suspect list and performed interrogations. Unfortunately, none of it got me any closer to finding you.”

“Well, we’re together now,” Moriarty remarked. “Something must’ve pointed you in the right direction.”

“More like _someone._ ”

Intrigued, the mastermind furrowed a brow. “Oh?”

It was now or never. Sebastian took a deep breath. “I sought assistance from Sherlock Holmes. Pounded on his door at an ungodly hour and refused to leave until he agreed to help.”

Jim damn near choked on his baked potato. “Did I hear that correctly? You coerced Sherlock into doing your bidding, which, in this case, entailed retrieving me?”

“Yep.”

The dark-eyed omega erupted into uproarious laughter. “Sebby, that’s hilaaaarious.”

“So…you’re not mad?” The sniper was pleasantly surprised by his mate’s reaction.

“Mad? Heavens no. The idea of you commandeering his services for my benefit is priceless.”

“He wasn’t the only one involved. I got Watson on board as well. Recruited the two of them to be my backup when I raided Colin’s place.”

Moriarty hushed at the mention of his kidnapper’s name. “ _Him_ , yes. I learned plenty about Colin during my captivity. He liked to get drunk and ramble on at length.”

“So you know of our history?” Sebastian was ashamed that his sins of the past had nearly gotten Jim and their children killed.

“I do,” the genius confirmed. “That man was an absolute fucking loon. And a bit of a bigot, too. I can’t believe you were ever friends.”

“Guess I know how to pick ‘em,” the blonde bleakly replied. “For what it’s worth, he didn’t seem insane back then.”

Jim put his fork down and reached across the table to take Seb’s hand. “Sometimes it’s impossible to see who, or what, someone really is until it’s too late. I don’t blame you for his twisted vendetta. Not at all."

 “Oh, Magpie.” He leaned down and reverently kissed his husband’s knuckles. “Thank you.”

There was a time when the mastermind wouldn’t have been so understanding. A time when both of them were more hotheaded and less than kind. But that was years ago, when they were younger men. Though still incredibly flawed individuals, the couple now had the benefit of maturity on their side. They’d seen and experienced a great deal together and come out stronger for it. Sebastian was keen to remind himself of that as he readied to tell Jim the next part of the story.

“There’s something else you should know,” he uttered anxiously. “Colin is alive.”

The Irishman’s expression dropped like a rock and his eyes widened. “What? Why? Did he get away?”

“I was going to shoot the bastard, but Sherlock refused to let me kill him because he wanted Colin to be held accountable for Lisa’s death. Holmes insisted we tie him up and call the police. I didn’t want to go along with it, but I couldn’t waste time arguing with him— I needed to get you out of there,” he explained. “Colin’s probably sitting in jail right now.”

Moriarty went quiet as he processed the information. Seb never knew what to expect when his mate grew so silent. The inner-workings of the man’s mind were strange and mysterious, indeed.

“Good,” Jim declared at last. “Shooting him would’ve been too quick. Too clean. He should die, but not like that. He doesn’t deserve the luxury.”        

 _Interesting,_ Moran thought. He hadn’t considered it that way before. Maybe his Magpie was right. Their stalker’s punishment ought to fit the crime. In this case, it would mean a painful and protracted death, commensurate to the hell he’d put them through for months.

Jim suddenly gasped and pulled his hand back, startled.

“What’s wrong?” the assassin asked with alarm in his voice. “Are you in pain?”

“I was put through the wringer for nine days straight,” he quipped. “Of course I’m in pain, but that’s beside the point. I just felt the babies move again.”

Sebastian grinned excitedly. “Really? That’s fantastic.” He paused, noting his spouse’s choice of words. “Wait, ‘again?’”

“I felt the first movements a few hours before you rescued me,” he said. “It was incredible, Tiger. I was at such a low point, wondering if they were even still alive, and then it happened. They started kicking, as if to tell me they were okay. It sounds unbelievable, but it’s true.”

“I believe it, Jimmy. I do.”

The men beamed at each other, basking in the simple joy of being a family. Pure, unfiltered love filled the space between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	30. An Extended Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim must endure an extended stay at the hospital. Thankfully, his husband Sebastian is on hand to help him through the experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. CLICK.

_Daytime television is bloody awful_ , Sebastian thought as he shut off the tv. There were fifty-two channels available on the hospital’s cable hookup and nothing good was playing on a single one.

Seb sat back in his chair while waiting for Jim to finish up in the bathroom. His mind wandered, recalling the events of the past four days. It had been a whirlwind since Moriarty’s rescue.  

The doctors were adamant that the Irishman not make plans to leave anytime soon. They wanted him to remain in their care indefinitely, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He refused to be cooped up for too long. So a compromise was struck. Jim would agree to stay there for a minimum of ten days, after which point, he’d return home under the proviso that he adhere to modified bedrest.   

Moran was at his most dutiful, doing whatever he could to help his mate endure the tedium of hospital living. One of his first tasks had been to assist Jim as he showered and shaved. Apparently, even though there was a shower stall in his basement prison, he was only able to get limited use out of it due to his shackle being in the way. The mastermind was thrilled to finally take a proper shower and shear off the heavy stubble that had grown during his captivity. He was less enthused, however, by the fact that he could put very little weight on his sprained leg, or even lift it high enough to wash. Fortunately, Seb was more than willing to pitch in, scrubbing him anywhere he couldn’t reach.

Other measures the sniper had taken included arranging for gourmet meals to be delivered so that Jim would have better quality food, replacing the scratchy sheets on his bed with a silken variety, and keeping a well-maintained cache of reading materials on hand for his leisure.

Speaking of reading materials, the couple’s interest was piqued when a recent edition of _The Daily Telegraph_ carried an article about Colin Taylor’s arrest in connection with the disappearance and murder of Lisa Abernathy. The media once again praised Sherlock Holmes for “solving” what was rapidly becoming a high-profile case. Moriarty and Moran were eager to follow the impending trial, both having their own ideas as to what his punishment should be.

At long last, the consulting criminal reemerged from the lavatory, crutching his way back to bed. Sebastian was quick to ease him into a comfortable position and reattach his blood pressure monitor. He disliked being hooked up to the thing, but at least he wasn’t saddled with IVs anymore.

“Thank you, Tiger. You take excellent care of me,” he purred. “Let me show you how grateful I am.” Jim gently stroked the larger man’s firm bicep and gazed at him with a come-hither gleam.

_Not this again._ Ordinarily, Seb would jump at such an offer, but right now he didn’t believe his husband was in good enough health for sexual activity. Yesterday’s encounter had certainly proven that.

It was late last night when Jim first propositioned him. The assassin was wary, but his Magpie could be mighty persuasive. He ultimately agreed under the condition that they not go all the way— it would just be a bit of harmless, affectionate fun. He really ought to have known better.  One thing led to another, and what started as a heated make out session progressed into him pleasuring the mastermind in an area decidedly south of the mouth.

Oh, what a mistake that’d been. Jim reached his peak, all right— and the monitor did, too. A nurse came rushing in after hearing the medical equipment sound off. They scarcely had time to hide what they were doing, and played dumb when asked if they had any idea what might’ve caused Moriarty’s blood pressure to spike. Though no accusations were made, she eyed them suspiciously, almost as if she somehow knew what they’d done. It was mortifying.

“Come on, Sebby. Let’s play ‘Pin the Magpie.’” He grasped Moran’s hand and suggestively licked at his lover’s fingers.

The gorgeous alpha grunted, trying his damnedest to resist temptation. Jim knew how to drive him wild. Knew how much that hot, wet tongue turned him on. _Ugh._

“We shouldn’t, kitten. You remember what happened last time.”

“It’s okay. I’ll just remove the monitor while we go at it.”

“Jimmy…” His mate’s solution wouldn’t fix the real problem. This kind of activity would cause his heart rate and blood pressure to increase. Simply taking off the device so that it couldn’t be recorded didn’t change the imminent health risk.

Sebastian pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry, but we really can’t do this.”

Jim peered at him sadly, hurt by the perceived rejection. “You don’t want me.”

The former colonel shook his head. “No, that isn’t true. I always want you,” he stressed. “But you’re not well enough for sex, sweetheart. It’s dangerous and I won’t chance it.”

Moriarty sighed. “I know you’re right, I just…I’m so frustrated.” Pregnancy hormones were beginning to get the best of him. He never knew how he’d feel from one moment to the next. For someone who strongly valued being in control, these emotional fluctuations were maddening.   

“Look at me, Jimmy.” And he did, brown eyes locking with blue. “I swear that when you’re back to full health, I will ravish you spectacularly. We’ll go through every position in the _Kama Sutra_ , and then some. Maybe even invent a few new ones.”

The statement elicited a playful smirk from the smaller man. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“You’d better,” Seb teased, grinning in return.

A moment passed before Jim spoke again. “Soooo,” he drawled, “if we’re not going to fool around, do you think you could take me for a different kind of ride?”

Moran tilted his head, intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m going stir crazy. I want you to wheel me out of here,” he replied, referring to the restriction his doctors had put him on. He was only permitted to walk as far as the bathroom. Any further than that and he had to use a wheelchair.

“Sure. This is a state-of-the-art facility,” the blonde noted. “It’s high time we took a tour.”

“We’ll stop at the cafeteria, too. I _need_ hot chocolate.”

“You got it, hon.” Food at the hospital was abysmal, but they had a surprisingly good coffee bar that just so happened to serve Jim’s beloved cocoa.

Sebastian delicately maneuvered his husband off the bed and into the chair, rolling the blood pressure monitor alongside him. As they ventured out the door, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of happiness deep inside. Here he was, an alpha taking care of his expectant omega. It felt so right…so satisfying. This is what he was meant to do.

*********

“Sebby, I want to see the babies.” Of course, the mastermind didn’t mean his own, but rather the newborns in the maternity ward. He’d spotted a sign indicating that the area was down the hall.

“I’d like that, too.” The sniper hadn’t been around many babies before. Perhaps this could serve as a preview of what was to come.

Following the directions on the wall, they soon reached the nursery. It was a sight to take in. Behind a large glass window were rows of clear plastic cribs, each one containing a tightly swaddled bundle.

“Tiger, they’re so tiny,” Jim said in awe.

He was right, and for a brief moment, Seb thought back to what he’d recently learned about his brother’s career. _I can’t believe Severin is a neonatal specialist, working with patients this size every day._ They looked so fragile— he’d be afraid to handle them for fear of breaking something.

Moriarty was positively beaming as he stood up from his wheelchair to get a better view, leaning against Seb for support. “Imagine, in a few months Essie and Eddie will be in there. We’ll finally get to meet them.” He took a sharp breath, inhaling quickly. “Ooh, they know I’m talking about them,” he joyfully declared, grabbing Moran’s hand and placing it on his stomach. “Feel them?”

The assassin smiled widely. He definitely registered movement. “Magpie, that’s amazing.”

“It really is,” he agreed.

There was another kick, stronger this time.

“I think you’ve got future footballers in there.”

“Or dancers,” Jim suggested. “Practicing pirouettes as we speak.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Always a possibility.”

The two men gazed at each other adoringly, and for an instant, it was as though the rest of the world had fallen away. Nothing and no one existed except for their cherished family unit and the love shared therein.

The Irishman glimpsed the nursery again as something caught his eye. “Tiger, do you see that?”

He did. One of the infants had turned its head and was staring straight at Jim. It was truly precious.

The genius made a silly face in response, and the baby smiled back. Its chubby cheeks were scrunched while its little lips upturned. They were making a connection.

“Who knew I was married to the finest ‘baby whisperer’ in London?” Seb teased.

A remark like that would generally warrant a smart comeback from the mastermind, but not now. He was too enamored by the newborn to care.

“Cute, aren’t they?” a female voice suddenly spoke. It was a nurse approaching behind them.

“I’ve never seen anything sweeter,” Moriarty confessed.

She turned her attention to the happy couple. “You must be pretty far along, huh?”

“Actually, I’m only 22 weeks. I look bigger because we’re having twins.”

The woman’s face lit up at the news. “Twins? How exciting! It’s been some time since we’ve had a multiple birth here.”

The consulting criminal grinned with delight. “Yes, it is quite thrilling. I can’t wait.”

“Is this your first pregnancy?”

His cheeks flushed slightly. “It’s that obvious?”

“Nah, I’m just an old pro when it comes to reading these things. First-time parents have a certain glow about them,” she noted. “By the fourth or fifth kid, most of the magic’s worn off.”

Jim laughed. “You’re cynical, but honest. I like that.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s nice to be appreciated.”

Proceeding with her work, the medical assistant walked over to the door of the nursery and stepped inside. To Moriarty’s surprise, she picked up the baby who’d been smiling at him and carried the tiny bundle out in her arms.  

“Where are you taking that one?” he asked, curious.

“This darling girl is due for a feed. We try to stay on schedule with these things. Establishing a nursing regimen is important for mama and baby both.”

“Oh,” Jim said, his voice wavering. “Okay.” He paused just a little too long between words, and though the woman didn’t seem to notice, Sebastian did.

After she’d gone, the mastermind averted his eyes down to the floor, no longer looking at the newborns. “Take me back to my room, Seb.” His tone was sullen, having lost the exuberance it held only moments before.  

“What’s wrong, Jimmy?” The former colonel knew his husband could be moody, but this shift was abrupt even for him.

“Nothing. Just help me into my chair and take me back.”

For the moment, Moran did as told. The last thing he wanted was to press the issue and risk upsetting his mate. But he wasn’t going to let it go forever. He _would_ find out what was bothering him before the day was out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	31. A Love that is Invincible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is going through some very personal issues. Sebastian is his rock, lending support as best he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“No, thanks,” Jim said, declining a ramekin of chocolate mousse.

_This is serious,_ Sebastian thought. Not only had his husband been depressed all day, but tonight he’d barely touched dinner and now flat-out refused one of his favorite desserts. Though the sniper despised emotional confrontations, he realized it was time to address the elephant in the room.

Seb took a seat on the edge of the bed beside his moody mate. “All right, enough is enough. Talk to me, Jimmy. Something’s been bothering you since this afternoon and I want to know what it is.”

The consulting criminal eyed him somberly. “Please, let’s not do this.”

Moran reached over and grasped the man’s hand. “What did I tell you weeks ago? I said I wanted you to be open with me. Fill me in when you’re upset, and I’ll do my best to help you through whatever it is.”

Jim sighed. “It’s something stupid and irrational that hardly merits a mention.”

“If it troubles you, then it’s worth discussing. Let me take some of the burden off your shoulders.”

“You’ll laugh,” he whispered while looking away.

“Never, sweetheart. I promise.” The assassin gently stroked the Irishman’s cheek, encouraging him to face him. And he did, their gazes meeting once more.

“It’s…I…” Moriarty stammered. Gone was his usual poise, replaced by nervous hesitation. He took a breath and started again. “When we visited the babies earlier today, it was wonderful. Seeing them made me so happy, Seb. It really did.”

The blonde smiled warmly. “I know, Jimmy. I loved the sparkle it put in your eyes.”

“Yes, well, I was a fool.”

Seb shook his head. “No, kitten. Not at all. Why would you think that?”  

“Because for just a moment, I let myself forget what I am. I felt pure, undiluted bliss, and it was bloody extraordinary.” He paused, squeezing Sebastian’s hand. “But then the medical assistant announced she was taking that adorable little girl out for a feed, and it sent me crashing back to earth.” The timbre of his voice began to falter, growing more distressed as he went on. “I remembered how I can’t do that. I can’t nurse our children.”

“Darling, it’s okay.” He moved to embrace his mate in a hug, and the smaller man didn’t fight it— he simply allowed himself to melt into his spouse’s arms.

It broke Seb’s heart to see Jim so distraught. They didn’t talk about it much, but the truth was that life could be difficult for a male omega. Collectively, men comprised only 20-25% of the total omega population and were faced with some unique biological challenges. Among those issues was an inability to nurse offspring due to a lack of sufficiently developed mammary glands.

“It didn’t used to bother me, but since I’ve felt Essie and Eddie move, things have changed,” Moriarty admitted, still clinging to Seb. “I like being a man and I’m thrilled to be their daddy. But at the same time, they’re growing inside me and have become an extension of myself. I feel as though I’m something more than a father to them and I wish I could nurse.”

“You’re beginning to feel like their mother,” Sebastian surmised, finally uttering the words his Magpie couldn’t bear to speak.

Jim nodded, resting his head on the sniper’s shoulder. “My instincts tell me to nurture them but my body won’t allow it. I’m a failure.”

The alpha continued to hold his hormonally-charged mate, rubbing his back in a soothing manner as he felt the man’s teardrops soak through his shirt.

“Hush now. You’re nothing of the sort. Not being able to nurse doesn’t change what you are to our babies. Plenty of women can’t or won’t breastfeed. It doesn’t make them any less of a mother to their children. The same is true for you.”

“Oh, Tiger. I love you. I’m sorry I’m such a mess these days. Everything gets me so worked up.”

“It’s fine, Jimmy. You’ve had a lot on your plate recently.”

_Plate._ Moran’s turn of phrase resonated with his expectant spouse in a sudden and unforeseen way. “Yes…yes, I have.” He paused. “Sebby?”

“Yeah?”

“At the risk of sounding highly suggestible, I think my appetite’s starting to come back. I’m ready for that mousse.”

The assassin smiled, standing up from the bed to retrieve the ramekin. “Bon appétit, my fair Magpie.”

*********

The next few days flew by quickly for London’s second most dangerous man. After Jim confessed his personal struggles to him, the sniper felt compelled to lift his spirits. He decided that a grand gesture was in order and he knew exactly where to begin: the twins’ playroom.   

Numerous secret phone calls and text messages took place, all with the goal of fulfilling his husband’s decorating dreams. He’d previously described how he wanted the area to look, and that was the blueprint Sebastian worked off of. Dozens of laborers were hired to focus day and night on the project. Time was of the essence, as it needed to be finished for Moriarty’s impending arrival.

So far, everything was shaping up nicely. A lavish mural of a branching oak tree was painted on the walls, ornately carved toy chests were installed, child-size velvet sofas and chaises were arranged, and an extra-large shelving unit intended for stuffed animals was erected. It was an impressive sight that served as a fitting companion to the already-completed nursery.

In addition, Seb had one more surprise up his sleeve. The playroom’s pièce de résistance was to be a functioning replica of the carousel at Kensington Gardens. It was rare, expensive, and thoroughly indulgent. Jim would love it.

Sebastian couldn’t wait to bring his Magpie home. He still felt terrible about the argument they’d had just prior to the Irishman’s abduction and wanted to show him how truly sorry he was. The only aspect he had trepidation over was how Moriarty would react to the news that he’d infiltrated his private office drawer. Under the circumstance, he hoped the genius would be lenient.  

_Two more days._ If all went according to plan, he’d soon have his family back where they belonged. Hallelujah.  

*********

Sebastian returned to the hospital late in the afternoon. Though he sometimes ran errands during the day, his nights were dedicated solely to Jim. Their increased quality time together was precious to them both.

The former colonel frowned upon finding his husband’s room empty. The man wasn’t in bed, nor was he in the attached bathroom. His wheelchair and shoes were missing, too.

_Oh no._ Seb grew panic-stricken, instantly flashing back to his nightmare from several weeks earlier. Had something happened while he was out? Surely he’d have been notified if it did? His heart raced as he imagined the worst.

Moran rushed to the nurse’s station, flagging down a lady behind the desk. “Excuse me, I’d like to know where the man in room 102 has gone?”

She glanced up from her computer screen. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not at liberty to disclose patient information.”

His eyes widened with fury. “You can bloody well disclose it to me! He’s my husband! My mate! My everything!” Seb was shouting now, rapidly approaching full-blown hysterics. “I _need_ to know if he’s okay, or—”

“Still in the land of the living, Tiger,” a familiar voice spoke.

The sniper turned around and saw Jim wheeling down the hall. He immediately ran over to meet him, administering a hug so fierce, it nearly knocked the omega from his seat.   

“Easy does it, love. I’m right here.”

“Thank god. When I couldn’t find you, I was so worried. Where were you?” he asked as he escorted him back to his room.

“They sent me to orthopedics to evaluate the progress of my leg injury.”  

“And how did that go?

“It’s healing, but they don’t think I’ll be able to walk on it for another month,” the mastermind answered.

“That’s okay. There’s a wheelchair waiting for you at home. And thank goodness for the elevator we installed last year— you won’t have to struggle with using stairs.”

Moriarty peered at him. “You’ve already bought a chair?”

“Yes, I ordered it on account of your bedrest restrictions.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Not looking forward to those.”

Sebastian smiled, noticing the cute way Jim crinkled his nose. “It won’t be all bad,” he assured. “You’ll have me at your beck and call, catering to your every whim.”

“I’ve already got that,” he dryly remarked.

“I suppose you do, _sir_ ,” the assassin said with a wink. Sometimes the best way to counter Jim’s grumpiness was by being playful.   

“Acting as the good little soldier, are we?”

“Maybe.”

“There’s no ‘maybe’ about it. You either are or you aren’t.”

“And if I was?”

Their eyes locked intensely as Jim’s smoldering stare threatened to set Seb ablaze. “If you _were,_ ” the Irishman intoned, “then I’d give you a few orders right here and now.”

“Such as?”

“I’d insist that you take off your clothes and let me lick every inch of your magnificent body.”

Moran growled with lust and frustration. Lots and lots of frustration. “Magpie…you know we can’t.”

“I ache for you, Sebastian. I doooo.”

They were at a stalemate. The heat between them was as fiery as ever, but the sniper would not relent. He didn’t fault his husband for making such bold advances— it was clear that hormonal fluctuations were fueling many of Moriarty’s actions these days. But even still, he could not give in. Above all else, Jim’s health came first. 

“You’ve the fortitude of a saint, Tiger.”

“Thank god one of us does.”

Jim sighed. “Soooo…what do you want to do instead?”

Seb considered the question for a moment. Obviously, they both needed something to calm their libidos down. “How about we stream a movie?”

“Fine by me. I get to pick the film.”

“Of course, darling. But please make sure it’s nothing too…stimulating.”

Just for that, Jim made him watch a five-hour PBS production of “War and Peace.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	32. Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim finally comes home and Sebastian has some surprises for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Today was the day. Jim’s requisite hospitalization had come to an end and Sebastian could finally bring him home. It was especially exciting for the consulting criminal, as he’d not been back there since his abduction. Nineteen days away was far too long.   

Moran carried the man bridal-style up the walkway and through the double-doors of their sprawling mansion. Once inside, he carefully sat him in his brand new wheelchair.

“How do you like it?” the handsome blonde asked, taking a seat opposite his husband.

“Not bad. It’s better cushioned than the one at the hospital.”

“Good, that was the point of buying a luxury model. Maximum comfort for my Magpie.”

Jim nodded and began glancing around. “On the drive over, you mentioned there’d be a surprise for me,” he recalled. “Nothing looks different, though, and I don’t see any packages.”

_My sweet, impatient kitten._ “My gift to you is in another room. I think you’re really going to enjoy it.”

“Well, let’s not dawdle. Take me to it.”

_Always so eager._ “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Jimmy. But before I show you what it is, I’d like to get something off my chest.”

Moriarty grinned impishly. “I’d like to get something off your chest, too, but when last I checked, you’d sworn a vow of celibacy.”

Seb chuckled. “Very funny. I’m trying to be serious, though. There’s a matter I want to discuss so that I can get it out of the way and not have it looming overhead.”

The mastermind let out an exasperated sigh. “All right, fine. What is it you’re so keen to tell me?”

For weeks, Sebastian imagined how he’d explain his breach of privacy to Jim. Now that the moment had arrived, he felt a flood of anxiety wash over him.

“Well?” the Irishman urged. “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out already.”

At that, he forged on. “While you were gone, I picked the locked drawer in your office.”

There, he’d said it. He’d confessed—

SLAP.

A loud smack reverberated through the air as Jim’s palm made direct contact with the sniper’s cheek.

“How DARE you!” he shouted furiously. “You had no right to go through my things! That drawer was locked for a reason!”    

“It was wrong, I know. But please let me explain.”

“Explain? What reason could you have possibly had for committing such an egregious violation of privacy?!”             

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The wireless blood pressure monitor Jim agreed to wear upon release from the hospital began sounding off.

“Calm down, hon. For the babies’ sake, try to relax.”

“How do you expect me to be calm after what you’ve just told me? I’m supposed to accept this without issue? No, it doesn’t work that way! I trusted you, Seb.”

“It’s _so_ important that you understand why I did it. Please hear me out.”

Moriarty glared at his mate. “Speak.”

“After you went missing, I thought maybe you were with someone you’d recently been in contact with. I tried to check your phone, but it was password protected. I knew your computer was, too. So that didn’t leave me with many options. I broke into your drawer as a last resort.” Sebastian paused, noticing that the monitor had stopped beeping and Jim’s expression had softened a bit. “I honestly believed it might contain information that would help me find you. I had your interests at heart. You know I’d do anything in service to your continued safety.”

“Sebby, I…” he looked downward, absently fidgeting with his watch.

“I wanted to tell you this so that there would be no secrets between us.”

“Right. So if you’ve been in the drawer, then you’ve seen everything. Seen what I was hiding.” He still averted his gaze, refusing to meet Seb in the eye.

“I saw some wonderful things,” the sniper replied. “Beautiful, heartfelt mementos that I never realized you’d kept.”

“Sentimental rubbish is all,” he dismissed.

“I thought it was fantastic, especially the wedding photo.” Seb hesitated for a beat, adding, “I accidentally dropped it and broke the frame.”

That got Moriarty to glance up, and when he did, Moran saw there were tears welling in his dark brown eyes. “You broke it?”

“It’s okay, Jimmy. I replaced the frame,” he assured. “But when it shattered—”

“You found the letter hidden inside.” The consulting criminal was nothing if not astute. He knew where this was headed.

“I did,” Sebastian acknowledged. “I read it, and it was breathtaking. Nobody’s ever written me something like that before. Your words were beautiful beyond measure.”

“I meant all of it.”

“I know, love. I know.”

“You’re also aware of what I’ve been planning…with your brother and the party.”

He nodded. “Yes, and I was gobsmacked by it. Threw me for a total loop.”

“I wanted to give you something special,” the mastermind declared. “After what you’ve given me,” he said, motioning to his belly, “it was the least I could do.”

Suddenly, Seb found himself incredibly affected by his omega’s admission. He leaned in and kissed him on the lips, a move which Jim was eager to accept. When he broke from their embrace, only one question remained. “Ready for your gift?”

“Completely and utterly.”

*********

Sebastian brought Moriarty to the playroom, insisting that the genius shut his eyes until being told to open them. Begrudgingly, he complied.

“You can look now, kitten.”

What Jim saw left him in awe. Everything was decorated just as he’d imagined when planning it out in his mind. From the muted color scheme to the placement of furniture, it was perfect.   

“When did you have time to do this?” he marveled.

“I hired people to work on the room while you were in the hospital. It was a round-the-clock effort to get it done.”

“Thank you, Sebby, really. This is amazing.”

The consulting criminal wheeled his way toward a large structure concealed by a tarp. “What’ve you got here?”

Moran grinned widely. “Glad you asked.” Rather than simply tell Jim what it was, he opted to show him instead. With a swift tug, the covering was removed, revealing the carousel in all its glory.

Moriarty stared in stunned silence, his face a portrait of indescribable wonder. A million questions ran through his head, but the only one that came out was, “How?”

“I tracked down someone who owned a replica of the merry-go-round at Kensington Gardens. Then I made them an offer they couldn’t refuse. It was a fairly straightforward transaction.”

The Irishman gazed at his lover with huge, glimmering eyes. “Can we ride it?” he asked in a hopeful, almost childlike manner.

“Certainly. That is the point, after all.”

Sebastian lifted Jim up and placed him on a carousel bench. “I know the horses are enticing, but I figured that for now, it’d be safer to stick with a bench seat.”

The smaller man nodded in agreement. “You’re right, Tiger. I don’t think it’s wise to try mounting one of those in my current condition.”

Once Moriarty was settled in, the sniper began tinkering with the ride’s control panel. A few buttons were pressed, and suddenly the machine came alive. Lights switched on and cheerful music played as the merry-go-round slowly started to turn.

Sebastian quickly hopped on while the ride’s pace was still building. He nestled beside Jim, putting an arm around him protectively. “This is set on a timer, so it will eventually stop by itself. No need to man it from the sidelines.”

The mastermind radiated with delight. “This is brilliant, Tiger,” he enthused. “I can’t thank you enough. You’ve made my day.”

Hearing that was the best reward Seb could’ve hoped for. He treasured moments like these, taking mental snapshots of them so he’d have something good to think about during dark times.  

“I can’t wait until Essie and Eddie are big enough to ride with us,” the genius excitedly remarked. “I know they’ll adore it as much as I do.”

Jim’s statement got his husband thinking. “Magpie?”

“Yes, dear?”

“What is it you like about the Kensington Gardens carousel? There are a lot of merry-go-rounds out there. Why is this one special to you?”

“Well,” Moriarty said, snuggling as close to Sebastian as possible, “it’s my first memory.”

“No kidding?”

“Yeah. When I was a little boy, my mum travelled to London a lot. Sometimes she’d bring me along and we’d stop at Kensington Gardens. We’d ride the carousel together and then go for ice cream. It was nice.”

“Sounds like it, darling.” The former colonel was always interested to hear anecdotes from his mate’s childhood. Jim rarely discussed the early parts of his life, particularly in regard to his parents.

“Sebby, how about we do that after we’re done here?”

“Get ice cream?”

The Irishman nodded. “I would loooove a hot fudge sundae with all the trimmings.”

“Far be it from me to deny such a vital request.” He turned to kiss the top of Jim’s head and smiled, savoring the bliss that had come back into his life. His home and heart were complete again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	33. A Good Old-Fashioned Bubble Bath, aka, Hot Tub Hijinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian take a bath together. Good times ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains explicit M/M slash content towards the end. Don't read if you don't like that sort of thing. 
> 
> ******************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

It’d been approximately two weeks since Jim’s return from the hospital and already he was faring better than expected. Seb wasn’t surprised because he knew how determined his mate could be when he set his mind to something, but the doctors certainly were impressed.   

The consulting criminal _hated_ being confined to a wheelchair, and so he practiced walking around a little bit more each day. He was beginning to split his time half-and-half between crutches and the chair, defying predictions that he wouldn’t regain mobility for at least a month. His goal was to move away from the wheelchair and eventually only use crutches, then downgrade to a cane, and after that, walk with no assistance at all. It was an ambitious recovery plan, but if anyone could do it, it was James Moriarty.

He’d improved in other ways as well. The Irishman had taken up learning breathing techniques to help reduce the incidence of sudden blood pressure spikes. Though meditation and relaxation didn’t come easily to him, he was making a concentrated effort to try his best. He had strong motivation for this— if he could maintain a steady rate, Sebastian would have sex with him again. It was a compelling impetus, to be sure.

Outside developments were happening, too. The couple regularly watched the news and had been following the case against Colin Taylor. Some startling information came to light in the wake of his arrest. It was reported that when the police ran his fingerprints through their system, matches popped up linking him to the scene of various unsolved crimes that’d taken place within the past decade.  Court proceedings were temporarily stalled while the authorities worked to determine just how many charges they could level against him.

Jim and Seb sought to enact their own brand of justice. The duo discussed the possibility of going after him once the twins were born. If Colin was to be taken down, Moriarty would damn well be there for the proceedings. In his current state, however, it wasn’t safe to enter into such a dangerous situation.

But never mind that— the details could be hammered out later. Right now, all the mastermind wanted was a long, luxurious soak in the hot tub with his gorgeous husband.

“Kitten,” the sniper’s voice called, “it’s ready.”

Jim eagerly entered the bathroom, delighted by what he saw. There was a steamy bubble bath drawn, softly dimmed lights, and Sebastian wearing only a towel. It was a true trifecta of wonders.

“You sure you’re allowed to wear the monitor in here?” he asked.

“It should be fine. It’s supposed to be waterproof like my watch.”

“Let’s hope so.” At that, Moran dropped the towel around his waist, leaving him completely bare. “Need me to help you in?”

The genius was immediately rendered speechless, unable to focus on anything besides the godlike nude body standing in front of him. Seb was absolutely stunning.

“Jim? You okay?”

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he hurriedly muttered. “I can do it myself.”

“All right. I’ll get in first and then you ease onto my lap.”

Moriarty nodded as he started to remove his silken bathrobe. He shrugged the material off his shoulders and then stopped, suddenly overcome by a pang of self-consciousness.

Seb, now situated in the tub, noticed his spouse’s hesitation. “Something the matter?”

“Not really, I just…”

“What?”

Though the Irishman tried to suppress his embarrassment, his cheeks flushed tellingly. “You look amazing,” he coyly admitted. “And I don’t.”  

Moran peered at him quizzically. “What are you talking about?”

“You _know_ what I mean. Don’t patronize me, Sebastian.”

“I’m afraid you’ve flown right over my head. I honestly don’t have a clue what you’re trying to say.”

Jim sighed in frustration and flung his robe all the way off. “Now do you get it?” he demanded.    

“No. The only thing I see is the love of my life standing on a cold marble floor when he ought to be in a hot bath with me. You’re missing out. Come on.”

“Sebby…you truly don’t see what’s wrong? You’re not disgusted by the weight I’ve put on since I got back?”

“Not in the slightest,” he assured his anxious mate. “You were starved during your ordeal and have finally been able to catch up to where you should be.”

“I know, but—”

“No ‘buts’ about it. You’re nearly six months pregnant. If you weren’t gaining, I’d be alarmed. Now get in here.”

“Okay.” The genius complied, positioning himself on Seb’s lap and laying back against the man’s chest. After a few moments, he calmed, his tension dissipating like fog on a mirror.

“God, you smell good,” Moran remarked, catching Jim’s scent as he lingered so tantalizingly close to him.

“Careful, Tiger. Keep it up and I might start to think you’re interested in me.”

“You know I am.”  

“Not lately.”

The assassin frowned. “I just worry about your health. I don’t want to be the reason you suffer some horrible medical setback. Remember what happened at the hospital?” He still blamed himself for Jim’s blood pressure flare up. If he’d exercised a modicum of restraint and not gotten carried away when they were fooling around, the incident never would’ve occurred.

“Take it as a compliment, dear. You suck cock so well, it throws me into a fit. That’s a bloody accolade.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh. His spouse had a unique way of looking at things sometimes. “Yes, perhaps from a certain perspective. But I care about you too much to risk doing harm.”

“My sweet Tiger…forever my protector,” Moriarty mused. “It’s funny to think that years ago, we used to fuck like blood-soaked rabbits— hard, fast, and with a fair bit of grime. Now look at us. We’re downright serene. What happened?”

“We started making love,” he said. “And it was better than anything else that came before.” He took Jim’s hand into his own, lacing their fingers together in a show of intimacy. “Fucking is easy— anyone can do it. But making love requires something more. It’s raw, and honest, and without shame. Definitely not for the faint of heart.”

“Sebby, darling? You never had shame to begin with.”

Moran grinned. “Maybe not, but you get my point.”

“I do,” he replied, lifting their interlocking hands to kiss Seb’s knuckles. “I miss it…miss being with you like that.”

“Me, too.” It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he wanted Jim all the time— he had a passion for him rivaled by no other.

“Tiger,” the consulting criminal whispered, “I’ve been practicing breathing techniques to help regulate my blood pressure. Perhaps we could test out how well they work.”

It was a very tempting offer. Also, a good way to assess Jim’s progress. 

“We’ll stop if your monitor goes off,” Seb announced, making his ground rule loud and clear.

Moriarty smiled giddily. His partner was willing to entertain the physical side of their relationship again. This was wonderful.

But who would make the first move?

Sebastian quickly answered that question as he began showering the Irishman’s neck and shoulder with kisses. He ran his tongue along the smooth stretch of skin, suckling a spot just above the collarbone.

“Mmm.” Jim carefully guided Seb’s hand below the water’s sudsy surface and onto the hardness that pulsed between his legs. He let out a faint moan as his alpha’s fingers wrapped around him, thrusting upward in search of friction.    

“I need more,” the omega hungrily proclaimed.

“So do I.”

The sniper changed position, shifting so that Jim was pinned beneath him. He swooped down and seized the smaller man’s mouth, their tongues meeting in a fevered rush.

Ever eager, Moriarty ran a hand across the broad expanse of his husband’s chest. He captured one of Seb’s nipples, rolling the sensitive bud between his forefinger and thumb. Sebastian grunted at the touch and bucked his hips, grinding their erections together as he devoured Jim’s mouth.

With a reluctant whimper, the mastermind broke their kiss so that he could steady his breathing. He inhaled and exhaled at controlled intervals, ensuring his blood pressure would not crest too high.

“What do you think, Tiger? No beeps.”

Moran eyed him rapturously, his formidable arousal straining against Jim. “We need to take this to the bedroom _now._ ”

The blonde didn’t wait for a response— instead, he simply lifted Moriarty into his arms and stepped out of the tub. Dripping wet, he stole another heated kiss from his dearest Magpie before speaking again. “I have a promise to keep.”

“Damn right, you do. I’m owed a ravishing.”

Jim would soon collect on that vow. Collect all night long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	34. Loving Him is a Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian spend the day together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Jim was nesting and Seb was slowly being driven mad. Whenever the mastermind wasn’t on a conference call for work, he was rearranging and reorganizing things around the house. Suddenly, items that had always been kept in a specific spot were nowhere to be found. The other day, Sebastian spent ten minutes searching for hand towels. When he finally located them, they were situated where the blankets used to be.

There was no consistency to the placement, either. Just when he thought he knew where something was, it would be moved around again later. He had to remind himself that Jim wasn’t trying to gaslight him— biological instinct was the driving force behind his actions. Even still, it was damn frustrating.

“Breakfast is ready,” Seb announced. The sniper had prepared blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs.

Moriarty crutched his way out of the bedroom. He was ambling slowly, struggling with his movements. By the time he reached the table, he was noticeably winded.

Sebastian pulled out a chair and guided him into the seat. “Darling, I know you want to be mobile, but those crutches seem to be doing more harm than good. Maybe you ought to reconsider what Dr. Swenson suggested.”

At Jim’s most recent appointment with the obstetrician, she’d seen how much difficulty the crutches were giving him. The weight of his belly was throwing off his center of gravity, making movement more laborious. She recommended he switch to a walker instead, because it would provide greater stability.

“Seb, I refuse to shuffle around like someone’s grandad. I’m thirty-eight, not eighty-eight.”

“I know, kitten. I just hate seeing you struggle. A walker would make things easier.”

“No,” he sharply replied. “And that’s final.”

Moran sighed. “All right, fine.” The assassin had learned a long time ago that it was pointless to argue with Jim once he’d made up his mind. The man was a paradox in that sense— he could be wildly changeable in some regards, yet stubborn as a mule about other things.

The consulting criminal ogled the food on the table. “This looks delicious, Tiger. Any chance you might be able to slip me a bit of sausage on the side?” Moriarty didn’t realize how dirty his statement sounded until the words had already left his mouth.

Sebastian smirked. “If you’re a good boy, I’m sure something could be arranged.”

“I suppose I walked into that one,” Jim admitted with a laugh.

“Yep, you did,” the dashing blonde agreed as he dished out their morning meal. He loaded his Magpie’s plate with a generous portion of eggs, wanting to make sure the expectant omega got enough protein in his diet.

Midway through breakfast, Seb posited a question. “What are your plans for today?”

“I thought I might organize a few things around here,” he answered, causing the sniper to internally cringe.

“What if I made you a better offer?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, it just so happens that I’ve blocked some time out for us to go shopping.”

“Oh reeeealllly?” His interest was piqued.  

The former colonel smiled. “Yes, really. I know how you love to shop, but haven’t been able to do it in person lately. I think you deserve a hands-on spree.”

For a moment, the genius’s dark eyes sparkled with excitement. Quickly, though, the magic faded. “Sebby…I’d like to go, but I’d never be able to get around properly. Even if I used the wheelchair and had you assist me, it wouldn’t work because of the crowds. There wouldn’t be enough room to move freely.”

“Who said anything about crowds?”

Jim stared at him incredulously. “London has a huge population, dear. The shopping districts are always swarming with people. I shouldn’t have to explain that— you’ve lived here for ages.”

“The store I had in mind won’t be busy at all,” Moran assured.

“Wishful thinking. Every store in this city is perpetually swamped.”

“Not when you rent the shop out for private use.”

The Irishman raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Ooh, has Tiger been up to some tricks?”

Sebastian grinned broadly. “Tricks? Nah, just a gesture of my affection.”

“Tell me more,” he encouraged. Vigor had returned to his voice.

“Okay. After placing a few phone calls and paying a considerable fee, I was able to secure three hours of uninterrupted time at _Mon Petit Amour_. The manager will temporarily close the boutique to the public so that we can navigate the premises without issue.”

Jim’s expression grew gleeful. “ _Mon Petit Amour_? Really, Seb? You’re not putting me on? Because if this is a joke, I promise I’ll punch your lights out. Not even kidding. I’ll see to it that you’re well concussed.”

The sniper chuckled. He enjoyed making his husband happy, and right now, threats aside, the mastermind was definitely pleased. Moran knew he would be. _Mon Petit Amour_ was one of the most exclusive baby-related shops in England. It sold designer clothing, toys, and accessories. To say the place was posh would be an understatement. Even members of the royal family had been spotted there.

“It’s no joke, I swear,” Seb affirmed.

“What time are we scheduled for?”

“Noon—3 p.m.”

“We’ve got some time to kill, then.”

“Yes, there’s no hurry.”

A devilish smile crept across Jim’s face. “Fancy a bath after breakfast? The new loofah I ordered came in yesterday.”

“Sounds wonderful, kitten.”

*********

 _Mon Petit Amour_ was a godsend according to James Moriarty. He wanted absolutely everything he saw. Each item seemed better, and more expensive, than the last. It was heaven.

“Seb, this place is _awesome._ Thank you again for bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome, Jimmy,” the alpha said while pushing his wheelchair-bound mate through the formalwear department.

Moriarty gasped. “Tiger, look!”

And Sebastian did, stopping to view the display that had so rapidly caught Jim’s attention. Immediately, he understood why. It was an assortment of miniature, infant-sized suits.

“Sebby, these are adoooorable! Imagine how dapper Eddie would look in a suit. He’d be the handsomest baby in London.”

The assassin stifled a laugh. Their children weren’t even born yet, and Jim was already envisioning them as tiny fashion plates. He had to admit, though, it was a precious mental image.

“I want one of each,” the consulting criminal declared. “Add them to the list.”

“Yes, sir.” In addition to escorting his spouse throughout the store, Moran was tasked with keeping an inventory of everything Moriarty wished to purchase. Once they finished making the rounds, he’d present the list to the clerk who would have the items packaged up and delivered to their home.

“Let’s see what kind of accessories they’ve got,” the Irishman spoke. “Suspenders and woolen caps would be so whimsical, don’t you think?”

“If it makes you happy, Magpie, then I think it’s great.”

“Happy? It positively _thrills_ me,” he proclaimed. “Now come on. Get the lead out.”

“Aye aye, love.” Like a good soldier, Sebastian did as he was told.

*********

Three hours and several thousand dollars later, Jim and Seb decided to take a rest. The couple sat at the food court of a shopping plaza, relaxing as they shared an extra-large lemonade.

“I’m bloody exhausted,” the omega complained.

“Me, too. I could go for a long nap right about now.”

“I hate to admit it, but I think the doctors may have been right to put me on bedrest restriction. I’m too old and pregnant for these kinds of excursions.”

“Hey, I’m the one who’s turning forty soon,” the former colonel reminded. “If you’re old, what does that make me?”

Jim smiled cheekily. “Methuselah, my sweet. How does it feel to have actually been present during the writing of _The Bible_?”

“Ha-ha, very funny. I’m not ready for the retirement home just yet.”

“I should hope not,” the genius replied. “There’s plenty more I intend to do with you before you’re put out to pasture.” He paused for a moment, considering something. “Seb, while we’re on the subject, your birthday is coming up shortly. We should discuss the particulars.”

“Okay. If you’ve got any questions, ask away.”

“All right. How about music? The DJ will play whatever we tell him to.”

“That’s a no-brainer— 70s and 80s rock. Preferably songs I can dance to.”

“Planning to cut a rug, are we?”

“Of course. It wouldn’t be a party without some patented Moran dance moves.”

The consulting criminal sighed wistfully. He knew those moves well. A shame he wouldn’t be able to participate. “Guess I’ll have to admire you from afar. My dancing days are on hiatus until further notice.”

 _Jim can’t dance on account of his restrictions._ It should’ve been obvious from the outset, but somehow that salient point hadn’t occurred to Sebastian until now.

“Perhaps after the festivities, I could give you a private performance,” the blonde proposed.    

“Mmm,” Moriarty hummed. “It’s been a while since you’ve put on a show.”

“Too long.” Seb eyed his husband enticingly. “I seem to recall literally charming the pants off you with a few of my moves.”

“What can I say, Tiger? I’m a sucker for a good striptease.”    

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

Jim took a deep breath. “We’d best get this conversation back on topic or else we’ll never get the details sorted,” he said.

“Okay, what more is there?”

“The food. Appetizers will include crudité, bruschetta, and spinach-stuffed mushrooms. The main dishes will be Beef Wellington and broiled lobster, served with garlic roasted potatoes and braised carrots. As for dessert, I’m going to prepare a multi-tiered chocolate layer cake,” the Irishman stated. “Is there anything you’d like added to the menu?”

Seb pondered the possibilities. “Would you be terribly offended if I requested cocktail weenies? I know you’re not supposed to eat processed meats on your special diet.”

“Being a processed meat isn’t the problem. I’d be offended because cocktail weenies are among the most lowbrow edibles in existence,” he snidely remarked. “But if it’s what you want, so be it. Anything else?”

“I like macaroni salad,” he noted. “And pork rinds.”

“Sebastian, sweetie, I love you…but _dear lord,_ do your tastes scream ‘poor white trash.’ I’d have thought that after all these years with me, my palate might’ve rubbed off on you, but I guess not.”

He shrugged. “A leopard can’t change its spots.”

“Or a tiger his stripes,” Jim said with a grin.

The sniper smiled back warmly. “That, too.”

Moriarty stopped to take a sip of lemonade before speaking again. “Hey, Sebby?”

“Yes?”

“All this talk of food has made the babies hungry.”

“Has it now?”

“Indeed. I think we ought to finish up this discussion over a late lunch/early dinner.”

“I’m game for that. What’d you have in mind?”

“Me? I have no opinion on it whatsoever, buuuut,” he drawled, “the babies would _adore_ a slab of ribs.”

Seb chuckled. “And you say my tastes are unrefined? I doubt you’ll see ribs served at a high-society event anytime soon.”

“Tiger, darling? I’m tired, hungry, and hormonal. Kindly shut that luscious mouth of yours and take me to a barbecue restaurant.”

The blonde nodded, knowing it was best not to push his luck in a situation like this. “There’s a rib joint a few blocks from here that I’ve heard good things about.”

“Then let’s not dally. Essie and Eddie are getting impatient.”

 _Essie and Eddie, yeah right._ Moran wanted to roll his eyes, but he dared not risk antagonizing his ornery omega.

“Understood, my love.” Oh, the things he put up with. Really, though, it was all worth it. Since Jim’s ordeal, he treasured every moment they spent together, as if each second was a rare and precious gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	35. Strange Tidings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian receives a surprising request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian had been granted a reprieve. Instead of neurotically reorganizing household items, his nesting omega was now preoccupied by nonstop baking. In preparation for crafting the sniper’s birthday cake, Jim began experimenting with various recipes as a skill-building exercise. Though already a talented baker, he sought to achieve mastery of the art.

“Everyone at headquarters loved the key lime cupcakes, hon.”

“As well they should. It was an outstanding batch.”

DING-DONG. The doorbell chimed.

“I’ll get it,” Seb volunteered. He expected it to be the delivery of some new baby-related product Jim had ordered. To his surprise, a young man in a business suit stood before him.

“Excuse me, sir. I’m looking for Sebastian Moran.”

“That’s me,” he replied. “What’s this about?”

“Under the authority of the Crown Prosecution Service, I’ve been sent to present you with formal documentation regarding the case against Colin Taylor. You’ll need to sign for the letter.”

The assassin was dumbfounded. “What exactly does this documentation entail?”

“I really don’t know, sir. I’m interning with CPS. They don’t tell me the specifics.”

“Right,” Seb muttered as he signed for the mail.

“Good day, sir.”

Envelope in hand, Moran shut the door and sat down at the kitchen table where Jim was whisking meringue.

“I was just served an official letter pertaining to Colin’s legal proceedings.” The statement felt strange as it left his mouth— he couldn’t understand why he was being contacted. The police were unaware of Moriarty’s kidnapping. Why, then, would a judicial office be reaching out to him?

“Don’t just sit there,” the consulting criminal urged. “Open it.”

Sebastian did, and what he read shocked the hell out of him.

“According to this, Colin has been refusing to cooperate with authorities. He’s not spoken a word to anyone, and was recently remanded to a psychiatric facility for evaluation.”

“They’ve certainly managed to keep that aspect hidden from the press,” Jim remarked. “But what’s that got to do with you?”

“Well, apparently he broke his silence to request a private meeting with me. He claims he’ll confess to his crimes if an unsupervised visit is arranged. Of course, they can’t force me to agree to it, but they’re formally suggesting that I do.”

The mastermind contemplated this new information. “Interesting proposal. What do you want to do?”    

Seb shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d see him again in person until we went after him,” he admitted. “I can’t imagine why he’d wish to meet with me at this point.”

“Could be unfinished business,” Moriarty mused.

“Yeah.” _Unfinished business._ The notion struck a chord with the sniper. “There are a few things I’d like to ask him myself, actually.”

“So do it. Go in there and call his bluff. Make him tell you everything you want to know.”

It was tempting. But a part of him was hesitant. He remembered all too well the last time one of them had agreed to a meeting under dubious circumstances.

“Magpie, this situation…it vaguely reminds me of when you met with Eurus Holmes. Look what happened with her. Mind games were all that bitch was good for.”

“That was a unique case,” the genius noted. “I didn’t know who or what I’d be dealing with on arrival. You, however, have been fully apprised of what you’ll be walking into. You’ve dealt with this man before and have the benefit of familiarity on your side.” 

The former colonel paused as he considered his spouse’s advice. Perhaps Jim was correct and he did have the upper hand. He could go in there with his head held high, confident that Colin had no power over him. He’d not allow himself to be manipulated by the madman.

“Thank you, Jimmy.”

“For what?” he asked, hobbling towards the refrigerator to take out a chilled pie crust.

“For your good sense and wisdom. I appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble, darling. Does this mean you’re going to pay Colin a visit soon?”

“Yes. If he’s seeking a meeting, he’ll get one,” Moran declared. “And he’ll damn well be held accountable for what he’s done— be made to answer my questions.”

“I envy you, Tiger. I’d love to confront that bastard. Fillet him alive. Turn him into an exquisite pair of shoes.” A devilish gleam flickered in Moriarty’s dark eyes. It was pure bloodlust.

Sebastian stood and approached his beguiling mate. “Did I ever tell you how incredibly sexy it is when you get that look?” His voice dropped a little, thickening with desire.

“Why yes, actually, you have. But I never get tired of hearing it.”

The assassin closed in on Jim, pinning him against the counter. “You’re irresistible, kitten.”

“Even with my body the way it is now?” he coyly inquired. Despite Moran’s constant reassurance, the mastermind was still self-conscious about his changing shape.  

“Always.” Seb loomed over him, leaning down to nuzzle his neck. He breathed in the omega’s honeyed scent and came alive at the promise of its bounty. 

Moriarty ghosted a hand down the larger man’s muscular frame, stopping when he reached the noticeable bulge in his jeans. “Oh my. Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?”

The fair-haired alpha grunted at Jim’s suggestive remark. “You’re mine,” he huskily intoned. “Mine forever.”

“Yours, Tiger, yes. We belong to each other.”

Seb kissed him on the lips, moaning softly as he felt his Magpie’s tongue enter his mouth. It was warm, wet, and wholly electric. God, Jim was good at this.

Calloused hands grappled with clothing as the sniper tugged away his lover’s t-shirt and pants. He wanted to ravish him right there in the kitchen, but quickly realized the location might not be ideal for someone in Jim’s condition. Soft, cushioned surfaces would be kinder on his back.  

He scooped the genius into his arms with the intention of heading to their bedroom.

“Wait,” Moriarty bleated. “My pie—”

“Leave it.”

And so the letter and the baking were temporarily forgotten as the couple’s passion ignited anew. As far as they were concerned, nothing else mattered in that moment except for the two of them. The rest of the world could wait. 

*********

The next day, Sebastian got in touch with the Crown Prosecution Service. Officers at the department were glad he’d responded to their communiqué so quickly. It made them even happier to hear that he was willing to oblige Colin Taylor’s request.

At CPS headquarters, the sniper was first made to sign a confidentiality agreement assuring his silence. Following that, he was brought up to speed on the situation. It seemed the prosecution was in a quandary. The DNA samples linking Taylor to various cold cases was being called into question due to slipshod recordkeeping and evidence collection. They were concerned that when the case went to trial, the defense could easily have the samples— and their corresponding charges— dismissed. In short, they _needed_ a confession in order to secure an indictment for anything beyond Lisa Abernathy’s murder.       

Colin was stonewalling the authorities at every opportunity. He’d elected to go mute, offering absolutely nothing during interrogation. He had even gone so far as to reject making a written statement. Things took an unexpected turn, however, during his psychiatric assessment. The madman briefly spoke, proposing a deal in which he’d admit to his culpability in those other cases if he was granted a private meeting with Sebastian Moran. Ordinarily, CPS shied away from bargaining with criminals, but in this instance, they were desperate.  

An arrangement was made, though it did not sit well with many. Concern arose from the fact that Colin would only consent to a confession _after_ the meeting took place. This meant he could, theoretically, renege on the agreement. But those were his terms, and he would continue the pattern of self-imposed silence if they were not met. The authorities begrudgingly decided that it was worth the risk.   

There were a handful of stipulations the stalker was willing to accept: (1.) he would be handcuffed for the duration of the meeting, (2.) a guard would be posted outside the room at all times, and (3.) their conversation was to exceed no longer than thirty minutes total.    

The assassin wondered if he was crazy for going along with this plan. It was almost surreal to think that he, the second most dangerous man in London, was suddenly working with the legal system rather than against it. Life certainly could be surprising sometimes.  

*********

When Sebastian returned home, he explained everything to Jim, non-disclosure agreement be damned. He swore he’d keep nothing from his spouse and he meant it. Furthermore, he was hoping Moriarty would offer up an opinion on the matter.

“So what do you think?”

“It’s a risky proposition, Tiger. But then again, when has that ever stopped either of us?” he lightly teased.

“I just worry that when I see Colin, I’ll want to beat the hell out of him,” Seb confided. “There’s a lot riding on this. I can’t afford to lose my cool.”

“I understand. Believe me, I do.” He paused, considering something. “Have you thought about writing down what you want to say? It might help you stay focused.”

“That’s a good idea. I should make notecards of the questions I intend to ask. If I feel like I’m faltering in any way, I can refer back to them.”

“I tell you what, hon. You put together the cards and I’ll review them with you, point-by-point. It never hurts to do a run-through.”  

The former colonel nodded. “Thanks, Jimmy. Your support means a lot to me.”

“Well, I know I haven’t always been an ideal mate. But I’d like to change that…be there for you more,” he said. “I want our children to have what we didn’t— a stable homelife with parents who are attentive to one another.”

“I want that for them, too. They’ll be brought up in a house full of love.”

Jim smiled at the notion. “Safe and happy…all of us,” he fantasized aloud.

Moran truly hoped so, but in their line of work, was it possible? Only time would tell.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	36. Deal with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian and Colin have an unsupervised meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains gory imagery in relation to suicide and some homophobic language. Reader discretion is advised.
> 
> ********************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

The meetup between Colin Taylor and Sebastian Moran was about to commence. Experts for the prosecution brought the assassin to Bethlem Psychiatric Hospital, a facility colloquially known as “Bedlam.” The stories he’d heard about the place spooked him more than he cared to admit, and he would be glad to leave the premises as soon as possible.

Moran received a pat down from security before being ushered into a conference room where Colin sat cuffed to a chair. On sight, Seb immediately noticed that the man had been cleaned up since they last met. Back at the cottage, he was little more than a drunken, unkempt mess. Now he actually resembled an older version of the comrade Moran remembered.

When the guard shut the door, Sebastian took a seat opposite Taylor. Only a small table separated them.  

“You wanted to see me,” the sniper said, staring straight at him.

“I did,” he acknowledged.

“Why?” That was the million dollar question.

“Because there are some things I think you ought to know.”

“Such as?”

The kidnapper tilted his head and smirked. “Ready for storytime?” 

Seb nodded, wanting to get this over with.

“It’s a tale about a man and a woman. We’ll call them ‘George’ and ‘Betty.’ They were a married couple, and George tried to give his wife the world. Somehow, though, it was never enough.”

The sniper slumped in his chair. He had a pretty good idea of where this was headed. It would not have a happy ending.

“Betty used to get depressed for days, sometimes weeks, at a time. It was like a fog would settle over her, suffocating and siphoning the joy from her life. George did his best to pull her out of those dark moods. He’d do anything to make her smile. So one afternoon, he decided to come home early and surprise his beautiful bride of three years. He stopped off to pick up a bouquet of lilacs, because those were her favorite. He also booked reservations at a restaurant she liked, thinking that a night on the town might cheer her up. Sadly, he was mistaken.”

“Colin, you don’t have to finish this story.”

“No, Moran, I do. You _need_ to hear it.”

Seb sighed. _Maybe this is cathartic for him. Or maybe it’s just another twisted game._ Who could tell, and did it matter? He was going to keep narrating either way.

“As I was saying,” the stalker continued, “George was mistaken. When he set foot inside the house they shared together, he had no idea what was waiting for him. He should’ve realized something was wrong because it was too quiet. Betty used to leave the radio on all the time, but that day, it was shut off,” he explained. “I digress. His wife wasn’t there to greet him, and she didn’t respond when he called her name. He thought maybe she was taking a nap, so he checked their bedroom. Well, he was getting close, but still no cigar.”

“It was then that George noticed a light on in the master bathroom, and the door was cracked. He figured she must be in there, so naturally, he stepped inside.” Colin paused, taking a deep breath before proceeding. “The first thing that hit him was the blood. It was everywhere. Red staining the tiles and filling the air with an acrid copper stench. He wanted to vomit, but forced himself to forge ahead. He made his way to the tub, and that’s when he saw her. His sweet, wonderful Betty was lifeless— her wrists slit open and the bathwater tinted like a valentine.”

An uneasy silence settled upon Colin and Sebastian, neither uttering a word after the heaviness of Taylor’s story.

Finally, the sniper spoke. “Colin, I’m sorry for what happened to your wife. From the bottom of my heart, I am. No one should have to go through what you did.” He hesitated for a beat. “But that doesn’t make what you did to Jim and I okay. It doesn’t excuse the fact that you _stalked_ us. _Threatened_ us, and our children. _Killed_ our guard and our decorator. _Kidnapped_ Jim. He nearly died. None of that was justified.”

“The hell it wasn’t!” the criminal spat. “I didn’t go far enough. I should’ve made sure that ponce bastard of yours was dead.”

Sebastian let out a low growl. He was trying to remain calm, but had difficulty doing so when the topic turned to Jim. His alpha instincts were on high alert.

 _Questions. You have questions to ask this arsehole. Focus on that._  

The former colonel pulled a set of notecards from his pocket. “There are a few things I’d like to know. Since I went to the trouble of agreeing to this meeting, the least you could do is answer them.”

Colin snorted. “This ought to be good for a laugh.”

Ignoring the remark, Seb began his informal interrogation. “Why did you wait so long to come after me? Why seek revenge now?”

“Because this is the year of your third anniversary,” he replied. “Margo died three years into our marriage. I thought it would be poetic justice.”

“That’s fucking vindictive.”

The lunatic shrugged. “You asked.”              

 _Touché._ If this Q&A session was going to work, he’d need to steel himself for whatever spiteful declarations Colin might make. 

On to the next question. “The day you abducted Jim, how did you know where he’d be? Did you put a tracker on his car?”

“Actually,” he said with a smug grin, “that was a happy accident. I was at a shop across the street from the convenience store when I spotted his vehicle in the parking lot.”

“So it was just dumb luck, then.”

“I like to think of it as a reward from the universe. Divine guidance, if you will.”

“Yeah, right. There’s nothing divine about the shit you pulled.”

Colin eyed Seb disdainfully. “How’s the air up in that ivory tower you live in? Gets thin at such a high and mighty altitude, I bet.”   

“Listen, you fucking twat— I’m looking for answers, not snide comments.”

The madman stuck his bottom lip out, mocking a pout. “Aww, poor little soldier’s feelings are hurt. You used to be so much better than that, Moran. Tougher,” he taunted. “I guess that’s what happens when you start fucking other guys. You turn into a gutless nancy.”   

Sebastian snarled in anger. If he had to spend another minute in the same room as this insufferable son of a bitch, he would explode.

“Look, I had various things written down that I wanted to ask you. But frankly, I don’t believe this conversation is doing either of us any good. So,” he stressed, shoving the notecards back in his pocket, “I’m going to pose a final question. Fuck the rest— I just need you to answer this one.”

“I’m all ears, Colonel.”

“I want to know how you could bring yourself to treat Jim as badly as you did. You and I are alphas, for Christ’s sake. It’s hardwired into us to protect an expectant omega, even if they’re not our mate. But you…you kept him chained up in a cellar, starved and deprived of medication.” The assassin’s voice grew angrier with every word. Thinking about his husband’s ordeal filled him with unbridled rage. “How did you override biological instinct like that?”

“I didn’t override anything.”

“Of course you did. The hell you put him through—”

“Was only the tip of the iceberg,” he asserted. “I planned to do so much worse to him, but those fucking instincts wouldn’t quit.”

Suddenly, Sebastian was truly horrified. What else had Colin intended for Jim? He didn’t want to think about it, but his mind wouldn’t stop reeling.

The kidnapper flashed a sinister smile. “I bet you’re wondering what I was going to do to him.”

“Shut up,” Seb said through gritted teeth.  

“Nah, don’t believe I will. I’m feeling rather chatty at the moment.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop right there,” the sniper warned.

“You’re mad that I starved him,” Colin spoke, undeterred. “But you should be grateful. I was originally going to give him food laced with an abortifacient.”

Moran paled at the admission, fury coursing through him in a blinding rush. _He planned to kill our children. Planned to put Jim through the agony of losing them._ This was beyond unforgivable. It was straight-up fucking evil.

“Imagine it, Seb. Imagine him feeling the lives inside him slowly drain away. Knowing they were dying and being helpless to stop it. It’d be devastating.”

He could picture it…he could picture it all too well. And that’s when he snapped.

The assassin hastily stood up, overturning the table between them.

“Temper, temper,” Colin jeered. But he would not remain heckling for long.

The man’s taunts turned to screams as Sebastian’s fists made contact with his face. Punch after punch rained down and the blonde could not bid himself to stop. He heard the sounds of bones cracking and cartilage popping, but still refused to yield. It was as if he’d gone into autopilot, acting entirely on impulse.

Suddenly, the security guard posted outside the door barged in. “What the hell is going on?” he roared.

Seb was disoriented, adrenaline pumping at a furious rate. He glanced down and saw his hands covered in blood. Then he looked at Colin.

“Oh God.” The man was hideously mangled. Both eyes were swollen, his nose was crooked and bleeding, his lip was split wide open, and his jaw jutted out at an unnatural angle. It was a nightmarish Picasso abstraction in the flesh.

Overwhelmed by the reality of what he’d done, Moran tore from the room at a breakneck pace. He fled the hospital entirely, running several blocks before finally darting into an alley. Using his shirt as a rag, he wiped off his blood-soaked hands and then pulled out his phone.

_SM_

_Did something bad, Jimmy. Don’t know if it’s safe to come home. They might look for me at the house._

_JM_

_What’s happened? And where are you?_

_SM_

_Beat the shit out of Colin. Hiding in a backstreet between 5 th and Chisolm. _

_JM_

_I’ll send a car to pick you up._

_SM_

_Okay. Love you, Magpie._

_JM_

_Love you, too._

 

Now all Sebastian could do was wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	37. Change of Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has information. Later, party plans change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

For two days, Sebastian made himself scarce at a loft Jim owned on the far side of the city. After the beating he’d administered to Colin during their meeting, he wasn’t sure how the authorities would react. Now his Magpie had texted him saying it was safe to return home.

_He must know something about what’s going on._ It was possible— the man did have a contact on the police force.

Seb would find out soon.

 

When the sniper entered his residence, he was surprised by what he _didn’t_ see. For the first time in quite a while, Jim wasn’t baking. In fact, he was nowhere near the vicinity of the kitchen. His voice, however, could be heard in hushed tones.

Seb followed the sound and it led him to the mastermind’s office. He gently rapped on the door and was waved inside. Moriarty finished up the phone call he was on just as the blonde took a seat.

“What’s the scoop?” Moran asked.

“You needn’t worry about police showing up anytime soon.”

“Thank god,” he breathed in relief. “Details, please.”

“An informant told me that the Metro PD is livid over the incident between you and Colin, _but_ ,” he stressed, “they’re not going to charge you with any wrongdoing because then they’d have to admit that they brought a known associate of yours truly— James Moriarty— in to assist on the case.”

Seb smirked. “I suppose that might make for bad PR.”

“Even worse, the authorities would also have to explain the circumstance under which they sought your help. In other words, they’d be forced to acknowledge the problems with their evidence backlog. That, of course, would open a whole other can of worms they’re not prepared to address.”

“Damned by their own deeds. Got to love the irony.”

“Oh, I do,” the Irishman agreed. “I’m afraid it’s not all good news, though.”

“What else has happened?”

“Colin called off the deal and has accepted the counsel of a defense attorney. It hasn’t been made public yet, but they’re planning to sue for police brutality.”

“Fuck.”

“Indeed. This case is turning into a fine mess before it’s even gone to trial.”

Sebastian suddenly felt a mountain of guilt closing in on him. His thoughts raced into overdrive. _I caused this to snowball. Fucked up the chance to put Colin away forever He’ll use his injuries to gain the jury’s sympathy. Convince them he was framed, and they’ll fall for it hook, line, and sinker._

“Tiger, you stop that right now.”

“Huh?”

“I recognize the look on your face. You’re blaming yourself for what’s going on, and that’s completely unacceptable. Cut it the fuck out.”

“You know me well, love.”

“Yes, I do. And I’ll not permit you a moment of self-flagellation.”

The assassin sighed. “I just can’t believe how I flew off the handle. The things that came out of Colin’s mouth were so vile…so reprehensible. He pushed my buttons and I couldn’t pull myself back from the edge. I wanted to kill the son of a bitch.”

“I understand. I’d like to see him dead, too. Preferably with his body disassembled into several parts.”

“That could be arranged.”

“All in good time, darling. We’ve got to wait for our buns to finish baking first.”

“Buns?” It took the alpha a second to realize what his mate meant. “Oh…the babies. Duh.”

He grinned. “Silly Seb. Get over here.”

Moran slid his chair close to Moriarty. “Better?”

“Much.” He grasped Sebastian’s hand and placed it on his stomach. “Feel that? They’ve been kicking up a storm today.”

“Wow, you aren’t kidding.” There was definitely an increase of movement going on. “Does it hurt?”

“Not especially, but it can be uncomfortable when one of them hits my bladder.”

“I bet.” The sniper could hardly imagine what this pregnancy experience must be like for Jim. All he kept picturing were the creatures from “Alien” and how they would violently burst out of a person’s body. He didn’t think his spouse would appreciate that particular comparison, though.

“They’re happy to have you home,” the genius declared. “Their activity level spiked when I told them you were coming back.”

Seb’s eyes glimmered joyfully at the notion. “Really? You’re not pulling my leg?”

“It’s true, Tiger, I swear. They love you as much as I do. It was sad for them not to hear your voice these past two days.”

“Is that a fact? Well, I guess I owe them an apology.” He leaned down so he could speak directly to Jim’s belly. “Essie, Eddie,” the fair-haired man began, “I’m very sorry I wasn’t able to be here. Rest assured, it won’t happen again. Your Papa isn’t going anywhere.” He concluded his promise by pressing two gentle kisses to his omega’s abdomen— one for each twin.

When Sebastian sat upright, he noticed Moriarty’s eyes were welling with moisture. “Are you okay, kitten?”

The mastermind wiped away a tear before it could fall. “Yes, I’m fine,” he answered, sounding slightly embarrassed. “Everything seems to tug at my heartstrings lately. At this rate, I’m liable to start blubbering the next time I pass the greeting card department at Harrods. It’s bloody pathetic.”

“Never,” Moran said. “Nothing about you could ever be classified as ‘pathetic.’ The most dangerous man in London is a force to be reckoned with. I know it, and so does all of Great Britain.”

Jim smiled. “You’re always so good to me, Seb. Even when I probably don’t deserve it.”

“I don’t know how to treat you any other way. You’re my family. My heart and soul.”

At that, the consulting criminal wrapped his arms around his husband in a fierce hug. His emotions were running so high these days, it was overwhelming. Thank god he had Sebastian as his rock; his guiding light through life’s storm. With him by his side, he could be invincible.

*********

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“This is ridiculous! I won’t stand for it!” 

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Sebastian was unceremoniously awoken from a nap by the blare of his husband’s blood pressure monitor, followed by yelling. _What the hell?_

He rushed to Jim’s office, where he found the man barking into his phone.

“No, I will _not_ calm down! So help me god, if I have to cancel my plans, I will skiiiiiin you! That’s not a threat— it’s a guarantee!” he snarled, hanging up on the call.

_Uh-oh. This can’t be good._

The ornery omega noticed Seb standing outside the door. He hobbled over to him, his monitor still beeping. “Tiger, why does the world show me nothing but opposition?”

“I don’t know, kitten. How about we sit down while you focus on your breathing exercises?”

Moriarty nodded as the sniper led him down the hall and into the living room. “Inhale and exhale, sweetheart. You’re doing great.”

Finally, the alarm stopped.

_Whew._ “Care to tell me what’s got you so upset?”

The Irishman stared at him sadly. “It’s the party. I went to such trouble planning it, and now it’s all falling apart.”

“How so?”

“Well, the weather’s been cooler than I’d like recently— not conducive to an outdoor event on a yacht. So I thought I’d change the location to someplace warmer. Specifically, Saint-Tropez,” he explained. “It wouldn’t be too difficult to have the festivities transferred over. I’d just get a different boat and fly everyone out there— DJ and caterer included.”

_Wow._ The former colonel was amazed that his mate was willing to go to such lengths to make his birthday celebration possible.

“What’s the problem, then?”

“The problem,” he said, groaning in frustration, “is that my doctors are refusing to clear me for being fit to fly.”

“Really?” Moran was surprised by the news. He had no idea air travel could be prohibited by pregnancy.

“Yes, unfortunately. I’m not so far along that I would ordinarily be barred from flying, but due to my medical issues, they deem it ‘too risky.’”

“Magpie, I’m sorry.”

“They’re the ones who’ll be sorry, trust me. I require Dr. Swenson’s services because she’s an excellent obstetrician, but the others,” he declared, “are disposable. I’ll obtain their home addresses and have them killed.”

_Bloody hell._ Seb knew he needed to talk his husband down from this madness before it got out of hand.   

“Jimmy, nobody has to die here. We can still make it to Saint-Tropez without boarding a plane. We’ll take the Eurostar to Calais and then rent a vehicle. I’ll drive us the rest of the way.”

The mastermind peered at him, considering the offer. “It’s a fifteen-hour trip by car. Are you sure you want to commit to that?”

“Absolutely. It’s been ages since we’ve gone on an adventure together. I think it might be fun.”

“Hmm. You’re right, it _has_ been a while,” he mused. “And with the babies coming in a few months, who knows when we’ll be able to do something like this again.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, it’s settled. We’re taking a road trip.” Jim sounded strangely excited at the prospect. “I’ll start making a list of what to pack.”

“That’s a great idea, hon.”

Sebastian was glad to have averted an unnecessary bloodbath, but a part of him wondered what he’d just wrangled himself into. This would be quite an escapade, indeed.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please allow me to explain the reason why I changed the location of Sebastian's party. 
> 
> I wanted Jim and Seb's babies to be born in February, hence the amethyst birth stone. That being the case, if Jim is supposed to be six months along at this point, it would mean that in-story, it's sometime in November. But England would be way too cold in November to hold a party on a yacht, so I decided to move the location to Saint-Tropez, a city on the French Riviera. Admittedly, the temperature in the south of France would be a bit cooler during that time of year as well, but still warmer than England. I kindly ask that suspension of disbelief be employed here.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. -- I'm temporarily moving away from the Colin storyline to focus on Sebastian's birthday proceedings. But rest assured, the Colin situation WILL be addressed; this is NOT the last you've seen of him.


	38. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian drive cross-country from northern France to the Riviera. They butt heads along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Be gentle with that bag,” Jim urged as his mate loaded luggage into the trunk of their rental Ferrari. “Our tuxes are in there. I will _not_ permit them to be wrinkled.”

_Tuxes, ugh. Don’t remind me._

Shortly before their road trip was set to commence, the mastermind decided that after the party in Saint-Tropez, they’d spend an additional few days in Monte Carlo. It made sense— the cities weren’t really that far from each other, and they might as well make the most of their mini-vacation. But it also meant they’d be expected to dress up, as was the norm in many Monaco establishments. This was no problem for Jim, who was a bastion of good taste and fashion sense. But for the sniper, formalwear was little more than a chore.

“Why the grumpy face, Tiger? You look sexy as hell in a designer suit.”

“Doesn’t mean I like to wear them.”

The consulting criminal flashed a devilish grin. “Don’t worry, darling, you won’t be keeping it on for long.”

Seb’s expression softened. “Oh really?”

“Reeeeealllly.” 

Moran smiled back and closed the boot of the car. “Ready to roll, kitten?”

“With you? Always.”

*********

“Sebbbbby, come on.”

“Jim, we just stopped an hour ago. And an hour before that. And yet another hour even prior to that. You can’t possibly have to go _again._ ” This was getting ridiculous— the Irishman had forced him to pull over three times in four hours to use rest stop bathrooms.

“But I dooooo. I can’t help it. The babies are putting pressure on my bladder.”

The assassin sighed. They were supposed to be on a schedule. With all these pit stops, they’d never be able to make the drive in one day as originally planned.

“Jimmy, we can’t keep having these impromptu breaks. You rented out that bakery kitchen to use tomorrow morning, which means we’ve got to be in Saint-Tropez by then. We have to power through the rest of the way.”

“I _know_ I reserved that space— I’m the one baking the bloody cake. I don’t need a reminder,” he said, sounding annoyed.

“Then you ought to appreciate why we can’t lose any more time.”

“Well, what alternative do you propose? You can’t expect me to hold it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jim. I’ve got to stay on target here.”

“And I’ve got to use the loo.”

They were at an impasse. Moriarty stared silently at Seb while the sniper focused on the road. It was then that a gas station appeared in the distance. The consulting criminal fully expected his mate to pull into its parking lot, but instead, he blew right past the place.

Jim’s eyed widened with shock and anger. “Sebastian!” 

“Yes?”

“You were supposed to stop back there!”

“No, I’m supposed to get us clear across France within a day’s time.”

The genius glared at Moran, and then for a split second, he glanced at the electric cigarette lighter near the dashboard. A truly wicked idea came to mind, but he knew he mustn’t indulge it. Didn’t mean he couldn’t dangle the thought over Seb’s head, though.    

“You know, the old ‘me’ would’ve jabbed you in the throat with a cigarette lighter for your disobedience,” he matter-of-factly declared. “But these days, I try to make wiser choices for Essie and Eddie’s sake. If I did what I wanted, we’d careen off the road and they might get hurt. I can’t allow that.”

Seb honestly had no clue how to respond to his spouse’s admission. He was already well aware of the man’s madness. And actually, it was somewhat comforting to realize that parenthood was having a positive effect on him. Jim was now thinking through the consequences of his actions and considering the welfare of others before his own. That was an incredible achievement. Their children were doing the impossible— shaping him into a better version of himself.    

Maybe they could compromise. “Magpie, there’s a bottle of water in my backpack,” he said, motioning to the seat behind him. “Dump it out and use that.”

If the mastermind was angry before, he was absolutely furious now. “Excuse me? ‘Use that?’ Are you _really_ suggesting I piss in a plastic beverage container?”

“It’s not so bad. I’ve done it.”

Moriarty snorted. “You once fucked a one-legged, toothless prostitute under a bridge in Prague. Just because you’ve done something hardly means it’s advisable.”

“Point taken. But to be fair, she had a great rack,” Seb joked, attempting to lighten the mood. Jim, however, was not amused.

“Sod off,” he spat. “If you’re going to act like a jackass, kindly refrain from speaking to me.” At that, the Irishman adjusted his seat, reclining all the way back. “I’m taking a nap. Don’t you dare fucking wake me.”

“Jimmy—”

“Not a word, Sebastian. Not. One. Word.” His tone was deadly sharp, and in an instant, the former colonel realized just how badly he’d fucked up.

_I’m a goddamn idiot._ This was going to be a long ride, indeed.

*********

Seb was at his wit’s end. Jim had refused to talk to him all day, and it was becoming worrisome. Sure, they were now making great time on their travel route, but at what cost?

As the hours of silence wore on, Moran kept thinking about how hard it must be on the body to carry twins. His husband couldn’t help some of the physical effects pregnancy was having on him, and it wasn’t fair to marginalize the very real issues he was facing.   

And then the sniper thought of all the trouble his Magpie had gone to, coordinating this grand birthday celebration. Hell, it was the whole reason they were trekking across France in the first place. For _him._ Because tomorrow was _his_ birthday. Yet despite this, he’d acted like an ungrateful, officious prig. Well, no more. He was determined to right his wrong. 

According to the clock on the dashboard, it was almost 5 p.m. They hadn’t really had lunch that afternoon, only snacking on a bit of trail mix and dried fruit during their commute. It was definitely time to break for dinner.

He glimpsed the softly snoring omega at his side. Jim had nodded off while reading a book, its pages spread open, creased against his belly. He looked so serene, which made Sebastian feel even guiltier. 

_You deserve better than how I’ve treated you today, sweetheart._

After tooling around the city of Lyon for several miles, the assassin decided on a restaurant he thought would best suit their needs. Translation: he’d found an eatery that didn’t appear to have a formal dress code or require reservations. He watched people go inside wearing casual attire, and it wasn’t too crowded for immediate seating.

Moran gently nudged his partner, alerting him of their current location. “Jimmy, we’re going to get dinner now.”

The consulting criminal wiped the sleep from his eyes and yawned. “What…” And then he remembered, his face pursing angrily as the day’s events came flooding back. “Oh.”

“Jim, I’ve had plenty of time to think about it, and I want to say I’m sorry. I was a total wanker earlier. An inconsiderate bastard, and you were right to be upset.”

Moriarty remained silent for a moment, contemplating his lover’s plea of contrition. “You certainly seem to apologize a lot lately."

Sebastian frowned. It was an accurate observation. Each day brought a new fuckup. A new way for him to make an ass out of himself and disappoint the man he adored. Why did this keep happening?

“I’m a terrible alpha,” the blonde brokenly whispered. “All I do is make you miserable.”

“Seb…”

“You’ve gone through hell these past few months, and here I am, giving you more grief to deal with. I’m sorry, Jimmy. I really am.”

“Tiger,” the mastermind began, “you’re _not_ a terrible alpha and you _don’t_ make me miserable. Far from it.” He reached over and stroked his husband’s stubbled cheek. “You’re my light in the dark, darling. My beacon, shining true in a starless sky.”

“Oh, Magpie.” The sniper leaned into his touch, savoring the quiet intimacy between them.

“For the record, the reason I got so mad when you refused to make another stop wasn’t just because I’m a cantankerous old twat.”

Moran chuckled at his mate’s turn of phrase. Jim always did have a way with words.

“Yes, it sucks when you’ve got to take a leak but can’t stop anywhere. It’s uncomfortable, but I could manage if I had to,” he explained. “What angered me was the health risk it posed, and your lack of regard for that.”

The former colonel furrowed a brow, confused. “Health risk?” This was the first he was hearing of it.

“My doctor warned me that holding it for too long would be bad for my kidneys. I need to be careful because the preeclampsia is hard enough on them.”

“I…I didn’t know.”

Sebastian was ashamed, growing clammy and nauseous at the idea that he’d unintentionally jeopardized Jim and their children’s well-being. He should’ve known what the doctor said, but he didn’t, due to having recently missed two prenatal appointments in a row. He wanted to be there for his mate every step of the way, but he also had to contend with matters at work and fulfill job assignments. Even still, this was something he felt he should’ve known. Should’ve—

Suddenly, the alpha’s frantic train of thought was derailed by a kiss. Moriarty’s warm, supple lips melded against his own. They offered familiar comfort amid a sea of self-doubt.

The genius pulled back. “You looked like you needed that, dear. You were spiraling dreadfully off kilter and I had to do something.”

“It’s stress, I guess,” Seb conceded.  “I want to do right by you…do right by our babies. But I’m not sure I know how.”

“All of this is new for me, too. We can learn together, Tiger.”

_Together._ Now there was a word that inspired strength within the sniper. Alone, he was fleeting— as impermanent as a wildflower that blooms and withers inside the span of a day. But alongside Jim, he could be so much more. _They_ could be more. Together, forever and always.

“Let’s get a move on,” the consulting criminal said. “At the risk of sounding indelicate, I’m ravenous and need to piss like a race horse.”

“Okay, hon. I promise you, from here on out, we’ll make whatever stops you want.”

“Good. Glad we’ve come to an understanding on that.”

As far as Seb was concerned, they most certainly had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	39. Of Birthdays & Beaches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Sebastian’s birthday. He and Jim spend the day together before the big party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Rise and shine, birthday boy.”

Sebastian grunted, rolling over on the king-size bed of his hotel room. He glimpsed the nightstand clock and—

“Holy shit, it’s noon.”

“Yep, that is it,” Jim confirmed with a grin.

Where did the time go? As Seb came to his senses, he thought back.

After last night’s dinner in Lyon, they’d continued driving and finally reached Saint-Tropez at around 10 p.m. The couple was so tired, they went to bed as soon as they checked into their suite.

The assassin vaguely recalled his husband leaving early in the morning. He’d rented out the kitchen space of a local bakery so he’d have somewhere to prepare Moran’s cake. It was still dark out when he’d gone, and Seb quickly fell back to sleep.  

“How’s my favorite pastry chef?” he teased, knowing how hard the Irishman must’ve worked.

“Long dead, I expect. Although come to think of it, I’m not certain if ‘Betty Crocker’ was a real person at all. Remind me to Google it later.”

“Ha-ha,” the blonde scoffed. “You know I meant you. How are things today?”

“Fabulous, dear. Two of the bakery’s regular staff came in to assist. I hadn’t even requested them, they just showed up. So we got the job done swifter than anticipated.”

“That’s wonderful. Do we have to bring the cake to the party ourselves or is someone else sending it over?”

“My event coordinators will be picking it up. They’ll make sure everything, and everyone, is in its proper place for tonight’s festivities.”

Moran smiled. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this. A party on a yacht with catered food, a DJ, and everyone from headquarters in attendance. _And_ it’s happening in the south of France,” he marveled. “I can’t get over how posh it all seems. It’s surreal.”

“Only the best for you, Sebastian.” Jim sat at the end of the bed and rifled through a travel bag. “Now I want your opinion.”

“Okay,” he agreed, sitting upright to focus on the matter at hand.

“Tell me which swim trunks you prefer. This,” he announced, holding up a grey garment, “or this,” he asked, brandishing a navy blue pair.

“Hmm. Honestly, I’d go with the blue.”

Moriarty grinned like a Cheshire cat. “I was thinking the same thing. Sometimes, it’s as though we’re of one mind, darling.”

“Planning to go for a swim?” The hotel was situated on a beachfront property, so one might as well capitalize on the opportunity.

“I’m not sure if my restrictions would allow it. However, I do want to catch a few rays on the beach.”

Though he tried to suppress it, the sniper burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Jim asked.

“You, one of the palest people I know, intending to sunbathe. Remember the awful burn you got in Rio? You’ll fry like an egg.”

“Not if I use sunscreen and don’t let myself fall asleep out there,” he replied. “Anyway, I’ve read that vitamin D produced from exposure to natural light can promote good fetal health.”

“Ahh,” now he understood. “I’ll come with you.” No way was he permitting his heavily pregnant, mobility-challenged omega to get so close to open water without him being present. His protective streak ran deep.

“That would be divine. The party doesn’t start until 5 p.m. We could spend the afternoon together.”

“Perfect timing, then.” Moran paused, an idea popping into his head. “Fancy a picnic?”

“Ooh, splendid suggestion. We can change into our swimwear and instruct room service to bring us a beachside lunch.”

A sweet, sharky smile settled upon Seb’s face as he looked for his trunks. He was really and truly happy in a way he hadn’t been for quite some time. It felt fantastic. 

*********

The weather in Saint-Tropez was heavenly. The sun beamed brilliantly in a cloudless sky, while the water was crystal clear and the temperature mild. One couldn’t ask for better conditions.

“More duck, dear?” the consulting criminal asked his partner. They were sprawled across an oversized towel, feasting on roast duck, garden salad, and baguette.

“I’d better not. I’ve got to save room for tonight.”

“I wish I had your willpower,” Jim lamented. “I feel like I’m hungry all the bloody time. For as much as I’ve eaten now, I’ll be famished again in two hours. Mark my words.”

“You’re eating for three, Magpie. Little wonder your appetite’s increased.”

“I know. I’m just a bit self-conscious,” he admitted. “This is the heaviest I’ve ever been.”

“The babies would thank you for that if they could. You’re keeping them well-nourished,” the sniper assured. “And you’re still the handsomest man in all of Europe,” he added with a wink.

“Not merely Great Britain, but continental, you say? How flattering.”

“Well, of course. They don’t call you ‘Mr. Sex’ for nothing.”

Jim laughed heartily at the remark. “Honey, these days, the only one who refers to me by that name is you.”

“And I always will.” Seb tenderly took his mate by the hand, gazing intently into his dark brown eyes. “Even when we’re in our nineties, sitting in rocking chairs on a porch, you’ll still be ‘Mr. Sex’ to me.”

“Oh, Tiger.” The mastermind was absolutely love-struck. Hormone-fueled or otherwise, he adored Sebastian Moran. His husband. His family. His everything. This moment with him was perfect beyond his wildest dreams. It was—

THWACK.    

“Ouch!”

From out of nowhere, a stick hurled through the air and hit Jim square in the shoulder. Before he could make sense of what was going on, a fluffy white dog came bounding towards him. Ostensibly there to retrieve its wooden toy, the pooch was quickly distracted by the smell of duck, nosing its way to the poultry. The cute creature began gobbling up the leftovers while Moriarty simply stared in stunned silence.

Seb, on the other hand, was anything but silent. He couldn’t stop laughing at the absurdity of the situation. It was priceless.

Soon, a little boy came running over.

“Pardon, messieurs. Parlez-vous anglais?”    

“Yes, we speak English,” Jim answered. “Is this your dog?”

The child nodded. “It is, mister. Sadie and I were playing fetch. I didn’t mean to hit you. I’m sorry.” He appeared visibly nervous, worried he’d get in trouble for what had happened.

“Be more careful where you throw this,” the genius advised, handing the object back to him. “Sadie has excellent taste in food, by the way. My husband could learn a thing or two from her,” he teased. 

The boy laughed. “You should see her at home, begging for table scraps. If we drop anything, she goes right for it.”

“A canine cleanup crew,” he mused. “You’re lucky to have her.”

“I am.” The child paused, rounding up his furry companion. “Thank you for giving me the stick back and not being mad.” At that, the youngster and his pup scampered off.

Moriarty watched from a distance as they continued their game of fetch. “She really is a beautiful dog,” he noted. “I always wanted one when I was that age, but they wouldn’t let us keep pets in the children’s home.”

“I’m sorry, love.” The assassin knew bits and pieces about his mate’s early life. From what he’d gleaned through the years, he understood that after Jim’s mother died, he was put into foster care. Though he never went into much detail, Seb got the distinct impression that it was a negative experience.

The Irishman shrugged. “No sense dwelling on it, I suppose. Can’t change the past.”

He was right— you couldn’t change the past. _But…_

“We can make our own future,” Moran stated. “Get a dog when the twins are old enough to play with one.”

Jim smiled softly. “I’d like that.”

The duo’s attention rapidly shifted as they saw the boy’s parents join him in romping with Sadie. Ordinarily, such a sight wouldn’t be worth a second glance. What caught their interest now, however, was the fact that both of them were men. Moreover, one of them sported a baby bump.

The Tiger and his Magpie were delighted. Seeing a gay couple in public was nothing new. But seeing a gay couple where one half of the pair was a male omega— _that_ was rarer than finding a four-leaf clover.

“Look how happy they are, Seb.” Moriarty’s voice was steeped with emotion. He encountered so few of his kind, it was difficult not to be deeply affected during moments like these.

Sebastian was moved by it, too. He imagined having a family with Jim similar to the one frolicking on the beach. Perhaps it was a foolish notion for someone in his line of work, but he held out hope just the same.

“I want that to be us,” the genius proclaimed.

“Really, Jimmy? That kind of life wouldn’t be too ordinary for you?”

He shook his head. “Our love is far from ordinary. A life spent with you and our children would be immensely rewarding. I’m sure of it.”

They held hands once again, fingers intertwined. A sense of strength resonated between them as they basked in the bliss of what could be. London’s most dangerous men shared a dream, and in that vision, anything was possible.             

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	40. Happy Birthday – Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s party time. How will the festivities unfold?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

So far, Sebastian’s 40th birthday bash was a rousing success. The caterer, DJ, and guests all arrived on schedule, and Jim’s specially crafted three-tier cake was delivered intact. Of the large group assembled, most appeared to be having a good time.  

“Tiger, I have no idea who some of these people are.”

The sniper chuckled. “You don’t know them? You’re the one who sent out invitations.”

“I forwarded a mass email to headquarters. That hardly counts as a personalized invite.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m familiar with everybody.”

Jim sighed. His mate made the issue sound like no big deal, but it was important to him. How could he act as a proper host if he didn’t recognize all the guests? Worse yet, he felt like he was out of the loop. Ever since his reduced workload went into effect, he’d left Seb in charge of procuring new hires. It initially seemed like a good idea, but now he was playing catch-up.

“Relax, Jimmy. It’s a party. Try to have fun.”

“That’s easier said than done when half the crowd is staring at you.” It was true, and neither could deny it. Plenty of eyes were on Moriarty tonight, as the open secret of his pregnancy was now confirmed. He didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter— his condition was obvious at a glance.

“Of course they’re staring,” Seb teased. “You’re ‘Mr. Sex.’ Who _wouldn’t_ want to sneak a peek?”

Before the mastermind could respond, two women approached. Thankfully, he was already acquainted with the pair. Gemma and Marie worked as acquisition experts. If you needed an item, they would find a way to obtain it— legally or otherwise.

“Hello, ladies,” Moran greeted. “Enjoying the festivities?”

“Totally. The food is terrific,” Gemma enthused. “Love the cocktail weenies.”

Jim rolled his eyes while Seb grinned broadly, trying not to laugh out loud at the remark.

“We just wanted to pop over and congratulate Mr. Moriarty. Both of us have children of our own, so we know how exciting the experience can be.”

“Thank you,” the genius replied. “It’s simultaneously thrilling and nerve-wracking, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Gemma smiled warmly. “I understand completely.”

“You should talk to Annie,” Marie suggested, referring to another employee. “Her brother-in-law had a baby last year.”

“No kidding?” The consulting criminal was surprised to hear that, but then again, he made it a point _not_ to involve himself in his staff’s personal lives. Well, all except for Sebastian— he was a special case.

Marie nodded. “Yeah, he had a little girl. I’ve seen the pictures. She’s cute as hell.”

“We were hanging out with Annie a few minutes ago at the hors d'oeuvre station,” Gemma noted. “Why don’t you come over and we can swap stories?”

“I don’t know…” It sounded like it might be fun, and that _is_ what Seb said he should be having, right? But he didn’t want to abandon his husband at his own birthday party, either.

“Go on, I’ll be fine,” Moran assured. It was almost as though he’d read the Irishman’s mind.

“Well, okay.” Jim couldn’t disguise the delight in his voice. He hadn’t had the opportunity to exchange anecdotes and stories with other parents before. It was an intriguing prospect.   

The assassin smiled as he watched his omega walk off with the women. Jim needed this— needed people he could discuss pregnancy and baby-related matters with, who actually had experience on the subject. It would be good for him.

_What should I do in the meantime?_ The night was fairly young and they hadn’t even cut the cake yet. 

And then it happened. Like a sailor beckoned by a siren’s call, Seb was drawn forth to the dancefloor. He’d forgotten how freeing the act could be. It was a surrender of sorts, to give oneself over to the music and beat. There was nothing else quite like it, and for the moment, he relished the simple joy that it brought.

*********

Time flew by quickly as Jim chatted up a storm with Gemma, Marie, Annie, and a group of other women. After about an hour’s worth of conversation, he decided he should to return to his mate. He needn’t look far to find him— the birthday boy was having a marvelous time grooving along to whatever song the DJ played.

Moriarty dragged a deck chair towards the dancefloor and positioned himself in an ideal viewing spot. He watched on, enrapt at how seamlessly the sniper kept in time to the music. His body moved with expert precision, as if the rhythm was a part of him, infused into his soul. The mastermind mused that perhaps in another life, his husband could’ve had an entirely different career commanding the stage like a modern-day Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire.

_He’s more handsome than both of them combined,_ the Irishman thought. _Flawless in every way._  

Eventually, the song ended and Moran opted to take a break. He wasted no time in rushing to Jim’s side, cozying up so close to him, he was practically on his lap.

“Magpie, this night has been wonderful. The best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“Good. It’s supposed to be.” He paused, biting his lip as he gazed longingly at Sebastian. “God, you’re gorgeous. I wish I could kiss you.”

“Go ahead. I won’t resist."

“Seb…you know we can’t do that around people from work.”

“Why not? It’s a daft rule that ought to be broken.”

“Because if any of them were to turn on us, they’d know our weakness for each other.”

Moran frowned at his partner’s choice of words. “My love for you isn’t a weakness,” he asserted. “It gives me strength and purpose. Makes me fight harder and smarter. So don’t _ever_ call it a weakness, because _it’s not._ Our love is an attribute.”

The consulting criminal placed a hand to his stomach, feeling movement from within. It was as if the babies had taken their papa’s side, kicking in solidarity. And maybe, Jim thought, they were right to do so.

Suddenly, everything became clear to him. These were _his_ employees and this was _his_ husband’s birthday party. If ever there was a time to show affection without risk of reprisal, it was now. They were owed at least that much.  

“Get your lips over here,” the genius demanded, grabbing Seb by the shirt collar and aggressively pressing their mouths together.

The alpha relinquished control, leaning into the kiss and allowing his mate to guide him. Sometimes he enjoyed letting Moriarty take the reins, succumbing to the will of his ardent omega.  

Sebastian was left breathless, his heart aflutter and goosebumps raised on his skin. “You kiss by the book,” he declared.   

Jim grinned wickedly. “Ooh, if I’m Romeo, does that make you Juliet?” he asked, recognizing the quote.

“It makes me the luckiest man on earth.”

“Good answer.” He hesitated for a moment as a question formed in his head. “How about we cut that cake, Tiger?”

“Only if you do the honors. Baker gets first slice.”

“Well, if you insist.”

“I do.”

The Irishman’s dark eyes twinkled with devilish delight. “Bring me a knife.”

*********

The evening wore on in a whirlwind of revelry. Guests partook in their fair share of dancing, drinking, and dessert. No one had left yet, though things were winding down. Even the birthday boy was getting tired.

“Remember when we used to party all night, Jim?”

“Oh, yes. Up ‘til dawn in more ways than one,” he cheekily replied.

“How did we manage it?”

“Youth and cocaine.”

The sniper laughed. “Ah, yeah. I suppose that was it.”

“Don’t worry, dear. I won’t let you fall asleep. You still owe me a private performance.” 

A smile stretched across his face. “You’d like that, aye?”

“Sebby, I’ve had to contend with watching you undulate for hours. I looked on as you shimmied and shook, and moved your body in ways that redefine the meaning of flexible. So yes, I would very much enjoy a private show.”

Moran tilted his head in mock confusion. “I’m sorry, darling, but you’re just being too subtle. Are you trying to say you like my dance moves?”

The mastermind scowled at his spouse. “Since this is your birthday, I’m going to refrain from calling you something unkind. But be mindful that once the clock strikes midnight, I’m no longer beholden to such constraints. At that point, I can and will tell you when you’re acting like a doofus. Are we clear?”  

“As crystal,” he said with a wink. Jim could be so cute when he got indignant, though Seb would never acknowledge it aloud for fear of receiving a pummeling.

“Glad we’ve got that settled. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to the loo. Be a dear and fetch me another slice of cake for when I return.”

“Fetch you cake on _my_ birthday?” the blonde asked. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“I’m carrying your children. I think that makes us even,” the Irishman glibly noted as he walked away.  

 

 

Moriarty ventured below deck to get to the bathroom. Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to wait in a queue— no one appeared to be using the facilities.

He flipped on the light switch and was horrified by what he saw.

Graffiti. Cruel and offensive slurs were scrawled on the walls and mirror in black marker. Many of the vile sentiments were directed expressly at Jim, being not only homophobic in nature, but also anti-male omega.

The genius backed out of the room in a daze. He was completely blindsided by the hateful display. It was the absolute last thing he expected to find.

Who would do this? And why? It made him sick to think that an employee of his was responsible. Even worse, that they’d dare commit such a heinous act during Sebastian’s party. It was a terrible betrayal.   

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Moriarty’s portable blood pressure monitor blared as his heart began to race. He was dizzy and clammy and struggling to breathe. Was this just an anxiety attack or something more? He wasn’t sure, and it scared him.

“Seb!” the consulting criminal called out. “Sebby!” He hoped the man would hear him, but with the music playing on deck, he might not.

Jim’s legs turned to jelly and he sunk down on the floor. His whole body felt heavy. There was no way he’d be able to stand up again without assistance.

Thinking fast, he slipped a shaky hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It took a bit more effort than usual, but he eventually managed to send a text.

_JM_

_Help me, Tiger._

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	41. Happy Birthday -- Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drama unfolds at Sebastian’s birthday party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains some pejorative/offensive language and sensitive themes. Reader discretion is advised.
> 
> ************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian was getting set to plate a slice of cake when his phone buzzed. _Who would be contacting me now? Everyone I know is already here._ Curious, he checked the device.

_JM_

_Help me, Tiger._

 

Those three little words were all it took to make the sniper drop everything. The cake and party were forgotten as he made a mad dash for the deck below. He found Jim sitting on the floor outside the bathroom. His mate looked distressed and his blood pressure monitor was sounding off. He knew this couldn’t be good.

“Jimmy!” he exclaimed, crouching down beside him. “What happened?”

The mastermind grimaced, grateful to see Seb but having difficulty speaking due to shortness of breath. “I went in…I saw…” He pointed toward the bathroom.

Moran got the gist of what he was trying to communicate. With his gun poised, he entered the lavatory to investigate. Immediately, he knew why Moriarty was so upset.

_Omega cocksucker. Abomination. Real men don’t get pregnant. Male omega spawn will burn in hell._ The graffiti went on, but Seb didn’t need to see any more.

He growled loudly, blue eyes blazing with rage. “Who did this? Did you get a look at them?”

Jim shook his head. “No,” he panted. “Don’t know who.”

The former colonel needed to put his anger aside and tend to his husband. He tucked his gun away and knelt next to him.

“Remember your breathing exercises. Inhale and exhale at controlled intervals. You can do this.”

The Irishman was trying, he really was. Even still, his heart continued to race. He just couldn’t calm down.

“Tiger…I’m sorry,” he wheezed between laborious breaths.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, hon. Whoever is responsible for this… _they’re_ the ones who’ll be sorry.”

Jim clasped Seb by the hand. His palms were sweaty and he was trembling. This was worrisome. The assassin had to find some way to relax him, and fast.

“Close your eyes.”

“Huh?”

“Close your eyes and think of the nursery we’ve got at home. You did a wonderful job picking out the furniture and color patterns. Picture it in your mind. Think of those beautiful canopy cradles.”

Moriarty complied while maintaining his breathing techniques.

“Imagine what it’ll be like when we bring Essie and Eddie in there for the first time. They’ll be swaddled tight in blankets from the hospital, probably cooing and smiling the way babies do.”

“Oh, Sebby. Keep talking.”

“We’ll lay them down in their gold-accented bassinets and they’ll look just like royalty. They’ll be the poshest babies in England.”

Jim smiled, still clutching his spouse’s hand. “They _are_ royalty,” he stated. His voice was raspy, but his breathing seemed slightly improved. “Our little prince and princess.”

“You’re right, kitten. They definitely are.” Moran paused, brainstorming what else he could say to soothe his Magpie. “When they get a bit bigger, they can use the playroom, too. We’ll all ride the carousel together and have ice cream afterward, like you used to do with your mum. Hot fudge sundaes for everyone.”

“That’s lovely, Tiger. What about the seesaw?”

_Seesaw?_ Sebastian momentarily drew a blank, but then remembered the toy. Jim had bought it a while ago, and the only reason he hadn’t included it in the playroom décor was because he thought it would be better suited as part of an outdoor playground area.  

“The seesaw will go in the backyard,” the sniper proclaimed. “We’ll have a jungle gym built with all the accoutrements. Slides, swings, monkey bars— the works. Their friends will want to come by every day to play.” 

It was then that he noticed Jim’s monitor had ceased beeping. _His blood pressure must’ve stabilized. Thank god._ Seb also realized that his mate was no longer quivering.

“You can open your eyes now, sweetheart.”

He did, his gaze instantly locking with Sebastian’s. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, thank our children. Thinking of them is what calmed you down.”

“Yes, it’s just…you always know the right things to say. When I start to lose it, you’re the only one who’s ever been able to talk me back from the edge. Nobody else has managed that.”

“I guess it’s a gift,” he said warmly.

“ _You’re_ a gift,” the genius quickly replied. “Sent in human form, and you’ve given me two more to share.”

Moran was suddenly very touched by his husband’s words. “I love you, Jimmy.”

“I love you, too.” Jim let go of the man’s hand so that he could hug him instead. “I think I’ll be okay. Help me up?”

“Of course.” The blonde arose first and then assisted his partner into a standing position.

Moriarty nodded appreciatively. For a brief moment, he turned to glance at the bathroom again. Sadness welled in his dark brown eyes as he took a second look at the vicious graffiti. He was no stranger to bigotry, having been openly gay since the age of seventeen. But this…this was an attack on more than his sexuality. It was a condemnation of his identity as a male omega and of his choice to bear children. It was an insult to his personhood. And perhaps most egregiously, it had been committed by an employee. There were no words for the level of violation he felt.     

“We need to find out who did this and slit their fucking throat,” the consulting criminal declared. “It’s a shame there are no security cameras on board.”

“No one’s left yet. We can go up there and suss it out. Or at least, I can. If you’d rather take a rest, I’d understand.”

“I’m coming with you.” Newfound determination rang in his voice. He _had_ to know who’d chosen to betray him in such an abhorrent way. This was a transgression which demanded accountability.

*********

Returning topside, Sebastian ordered the DJ to stop the music. That seemed to get the crowd’s attention, as many looked over to see what was going on.

_Good, I’ve got a captive audience._

Using the DJ’s microphone, he began. “I want to thank everyone for attending my birthday party. For the most part, it’s been fun. However, I’m disheartened to announce that there’s been an act of vandalism in the on-board bathroom. Some incredibly derogatory things were written on the walls and mirror.” People were abuzz at the news, and Seb continued, “What Mr. Moriarty and I would like to know is simple. We want to uncover who was responsible for the heinous display. So please, for your sake and ours, do the right thing. Own up to what you’ve done.”

The crowd clamored amongst themselves, but no volunteers stepped forward. Noticing this, Jim moved to stand alongside his mate. “Not exactly a forthcoming bunch,” he whispered.

“No, they’re not,” the alpha said with a frustrated sigh.

Speaking into the mic again, he related another message. “This situation will go a lot easier if the perpetrator just comes clean. Don’t make matters more difficult than they need to be.”     

Still, no one offered a confession.

“Fuck this,” Jim hissed, grabbing the microphone away from Moran.

“Hiiiiii,” he greeted the attendees. “It’s your boss here, James Moriarty. I’d like to take a moment to stress the importance of what my charming associate has told you all.” The audience fell into a hush as the mastermind spoke. Not a soul dared interrupt. “If the vandal admits to what he or she has done right now, there will be consequences, yes. But if they don’t acknowledge their wrongdoing and we learn who it is later, the repercussions will be _exponentially_ worse,” he informed the group. “Consider your silence carefully, because it may come back to haunt you.”

To Jim and Seb’s mutual disappointment, the Irishman’s straightforward appeal inspired precious little honesty among the partygoers. The duo looked at each other, realizing they would have to apply alternate measures to smoke out the culprit.

“Okay, since the person who defaced the bathroom is too cowardly to admit their guilt, we’re left with no choice but to do this the hard way,” the genius declared. “I’m going to insist that everyone line up in an orderly fashion. Sebastian and I will be checking any bags or purses you may be carrying, as well as administer a bodily pat down. Anyone who refuses to submit to inspection will be permanently dismissed from my employ.” 

“What is it we’re looking for?” the sniper quietly asked.

“A black marker. The same kind that was used to write the graffiti.”

“Understood.”

With a heavy heart, Moran did as directed. This wasn’t at all how he’d hoped to cap off his birthday. _When I find the miserable son of a bitch responsible for this, they’ll be begging for death._

*********

The Magpie and his Tiger were in dismay. Their efforts to uncover the vandal proved fruitless. Though the miscreant had to be a guest, none confessed to the act and no marker was found. Ultimately, they were forced to let everyone leave without having apprehended anyone. 

When the couple returned to their hotel room, they practically collapsed into bed. Both were worn down by the exacting emotional toll the evening had taken. For a day that had begun so wonderfully, neither could’ve anticipated the dour note it would end on.  

Sebastian laid stalk-straight while Moriarty curled into a ball, facing away from his husband. Tired as they were, sleep refused to come.

After several restless minutes, the former colonel heard a pitiful sound amid the darkness. It was a sniffle and a whimper— small, but weighty in the depths of its sorrow. It was Jim.

Moran flipped on the nightstand lamp and rolled over towards his mate. He moved to hold him in a spooning position, a gesture the smaller man readily accepted.

“Don’t cry, love. We’ll find the bastard yet.”

“I’m sorry it ruined your party. It was supposed to be perfect for you, Tiger. I _wanted_ it to be perfect.” The consulting criminal let out a shuddering sob. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Seb consoled. “You organized an excellent event. The awful actions of a bigoted individual were out of your control. No one could’ve predicted what would happen.”

“I know, Tiger. Logically, I get that. But inside…in my head and my heart…” he trailed off, tears overtaking him once more. “It feels so _wrong._ ”

The mastermind nestled as close to Sebastian as possible, his back pressed firmly against the larger man’s bare chest. Their bodies were molded together like pieces of a puzzle, but still it was not enough.

“Hold me tighter,” he said, and sniper obliged. Moran’s arm slung over him, his hand resting on the swell of Jim’s stomach. Seb absently massaged his abdomen, feeling gentle kicks arise to meet his touch.

“They were sleeping,” Moriarty remarked. “You’ve stirred them up.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I like it when they’re moving. It lets me know they’re alive and well.” He took a deep breath, shivering ever so slightly. “Sebby?”

“Yes?”

“About the graffiti tonight— I don’t care what people think of me. I stopped giving a toss ages ago,” the genius stated. “But the babies…what upset me was seeing what was written about them.”

Seb was silent for a moment, recalling the cruel sentiments on display. It had enraged him, too.

“I’ve been a rotten son of a bitch plenty of times,” Jim admitted, “but even I’ve never done _that._ Never wished an innocent baby to ‘burn in hell.’ How could anyone be so hateful?”

“I don’t know, Magpie. I can’t understand it either.”

“Sometimes I wonder what kind of world we’re bringing Essie and Eddie into.”

“One that will be filled with our love,” the alpha assured. “They’ll know nothing but affection.”

“From us, yes. But what of everyone else? We can’t keep them locked away in a tower. Eventually, they’ll go out. Meet other people. And then what?”

“Jimmy, I believe that as parents, we just have to do the best we can. It’s impossible to control what others may do, but we can be there for them when they need us, and trust that our examples will prepare them for the outside world.”

The consulting criminal laughed. “ _Our_ examples? Good grief, Tiger, are you sure that’s a good idea? I can picture it now— you taking the twins out to a shooting range or explaining to them the nuances of selecting a garrote.”

Sebastian grinned. “Hey, that’s actually a very important piece of information. You don’t want to choose a cord that’s too thick and unwieldly, but conversely, you don’t want it to be so thin it will snap. There’s a delicate balance that must be achieved.”

“Oh, Sebby. Are we crazy for this? For wanting to be parents?”

“No crazier than anyone who decides to have kids. It’s a commitment, but I know we can handle it.”

Jim sighed contentedly. “You’ll be a good daddy,” he declared, a soft yawn escaping his lips.

“So will you. We’ll cherish and protect our cubs together.”

The dark-eyed omega cooed. “I like it when you call them that. Makes me think of little tiger babies romping at the zoo.”

“Hmm, now there’s a thought. Perhaps I’ll start counting kittens instead of sheep to help me sleep,” Moran teased.  

“Silly Seb,” he groggily spoke. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Magpie. Always.”

It didn’t take long for Jim to drift off to dreamland, and his husband soon followed suit. They slumbered all night in each other’s arms, not even caring that the lights were left on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	42. Monte Carlo Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never know who or what you’ll come across in Monte Carlo…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

The day after Sebastian’s birthday party, he and Jim set out for Monte Carlo. It was a relatively short drive, taking just over 2-hours total. Despite this, the ride felt at least twice as long, not because of traffic or road construction, but due to the impenetrable wall of silence that had settled between them. Seb tried to make conversation, but his mate retreated inward, barely uttering a handful of words. Body language and experience told him that the genius was not mad at him. Rather, he was simply in one of his morose moods.

When they arrived at their hotel, the sniper discovered that Jim pre-booked the largest suite available. It was an incredibly opulent room, one which the desk clerk assured them had been occupied by royalty on numerous occasions. Frankly, Moran didn’t much care, but it was the kind of pedigree that would’ve impressed his husband, had the man not been in a state of depression.

Seb was brainstorming a strategic plan to cheer the Irishman up. _The tuxedo._ Moriarty always loved seeing him in formal-wear, dressed to the nines like he’d just come from a red carpet event. So now, as Jim soaked in the tub, he would secretly slip into the Armani tux he’d brought along, accessories included.   

He unzipped the bag his suit was in, checking to make sure there were no wrinkles. _Smooth as ever,_ he noted _._ Nary even a crease. All he had to do was put it on.

_Here goes nothing._

*********

Moriarty stepped out of the bathroom wearing a black silk robe. He was fresh and clean, feeling slightly more relaxed than he had prior to his soak. It’d been a rough morning for the consulting criminal. He’d awoken in a terribly dour disposition. His back ached, his feet were swollen, and he felt hideously fat. Not to mention, he was still reeling from yesterday’s graffiti incident. All of those things combined to create a flurry of woe. 

The mastermind audibly gasped when he caught sight of Sebastian. His husband stood before him, clad in a tuxedo while posing with his gun. He was the epitome of elegance and sophistication, oozing charm from every pore. Jim could ogle him for hours and never grow bored.

“See something you like?” the sly blonde asked with a smirk.

Oh, yes. Yes, he most certainly did. Seb was gorgeous on any given day, but dressed like that, he was spectacular.

“Tiger, you’re so…dashing.” Moriarty could not disguise the want in his voice. He was powerfully attracted to the man.

“Thanks, love. Can’t remember the last time I wore one of these things.” 

“It was this past New Year’s Eve, at the black-tie gala in Munich,” he answered without missing a beat.

“Ah, that’s right.” Moran thought back, his memory jogged. “God, they served good spätzle.”

“It was passable catering,” Jim quipped. “Truth be told, I was more taken by _you_ than the food.”

Sebastian saw this as his cue to make a move. He strode up to his spouse, closing in so that they were a hairsbreadth apart. The energy surrounding them was smoldering in its intensity, reaching near-combustible proportions.

“Christ,” the dark-eyed genius muttered. “It’s a good thing I learned those breathing exercises.”

“Am I really so appealing?”

“Must you ask?” He took a long, lingering look at the former colonel. “Bloody hell, Seb. In that outfit, you could be James Bond.”     

“It’s funny you should say that. Bond was one of my first crushes.”

“Oh? Doooo tell.” Jim was listening with rapt anticipation. He enjoyed discovering new things about his magnificent mate. Even after several years together, they still managed to surprise each other every now and then.

“When I was ten, my brother Severin went through a phase where he was fixated on spy films. One day, I came in while he was watching “Goldfinger,” and, well, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather.”

The consulting criminal flashed a devilish grin. “You fell for Connery, aye? Good taste.”

“What’s more, I fell for Pussy Galore, too. I wanted to snog them both.”

“Oooh, how scandalous.”

“That’s me,” Seb teased. “Salacious as the day is long.” He gingerly reached out to stroke Jim’s arm through the fabric of his robe. Their eyes met in a penetrating gaze, and he continued, “Let me take you out, Magpie. Allow me the honor of escorting you through this fine city.” 

“Hmm.” The mastermind badly wanted to say ‘yes,’ but he was still feeling self-conscious. “Sebby…are you certain you wish to be seen with me? I’m not exactly cutting the most striking figure of late.”

The assassin sighed, shaking his head. “How many times do we have to go through this, darling? You know where my heart lies.”

Anxiety crept across the Irishman’s face. His emotions were haywire, a mess of stress and hormones in collision.

Sebastian dropped down on one knee and grasped his partner’s hand. Moriarty looked at him, confused, but said nothing.

“Jimmy, I hereby swear that you shall forever be my greatest passion and my deepest love. I cherish you, and you alone. It thrills me that you’re carrying our children, and I would _proudly_ go anywhere with you by my side. Permit me to do so. Grant me the gift of your glorious company.”

Jim’s breathing hitched and his eyes glistened with tears. “Tiger, that was beautiful.”

“It’s all true. I’m irrevocably yours.”

“Oh, my sweet, sweet Sebby.” He pulled the other man upwards so that he was standing again, and proceeded to wrap his arms around him. “Yes, I’ll go out with you. Just give me a moment to get dressed.”

“Take whatever time you need.”

The sniper would wait an eternity if that’s what it took. 

*********

Afternoon stretched into evening as Jim and Sebastian painted the town red. They dined at a 5-star restaurant, attended a concert performed by the Monte-Carlo Philharmonic Orchestra, and participated in a bit of high-stakes gambling. In all, it was a wonderful day.

Before returning to their suite for some much-desired alone time, the couple decided to stop at the hotel bar and get a nightcap. Seb was drinking scotch as usual, but Moriarty’s cocktail request sent the assassin into a barely stifled fit of laughter. In his most serious voice, Jim had asked the bartender for a Shirley Temple. Moran wished he’d captured the moment on film.

“How is it, dear?” the blonde inquired, flashing the faintest hint of a smirk.

Jim locked eyes with his alpha, wordlessly plucking the cherry garnish from his drink. He pressed the fruit to Seb’s lips, feeding it to him and leaving only the stem. Then, he popped the inedible stalk into his own mouth. Moran watched intently as he appeared to work it around his palate the way one might do when sucking on hard candy. After a few seconds, he stopped and pulled out the stem. It was now tied like a tiny pretzel.

“Wow,” the former colonel marveled. “I always knew you had a talented tongue, but I didn’t realize you could do _that._ ”

The mastermind smiled wickedly. “Just a little something to tide you over until we get back to our room.” He rose from his barstool and assumed a standing position. “I’m heading to the loo. Don’t leave without me.”

While waiting at the bar, Seb ordered a second drink and checked some things on his phone. After the awkward way his party ended, he wasn’t sure what to expect in terms of fallout. So far, he’d received no angry messages, which was a relief. Still, the vandalism incident weighed heavily on him. When they returned to London, he would begin an investigation into the backgrounds of their most recent hires. He thought he’d done a good job of that during the interview process, but apparently not. The person responsible had to be a new employee, right? Neither he nor Jim wanted to believe that a seasoned associate would do such a thing.

Suddenly, a female voice caught the sniper’s attention.

“I’ll have a gin martini with a lemon twist,” the woman spoke.

He _knew_ that voice. Knew it quite well, in fact, but he’d not heard it in years.

Turning his head toward the sound, he was gobsmacked.

_Irene Adler._

Never in a million years did he think he’d see her again. And why would he? She was supposed to be dead.

 _Has everyone I know faked their death at one point or another?_ It was becoming a bizarre trend in his life.

As he spied Irene, she noticed him, too. Their eyes met for a split second before he quickly averted his gaze. But it was too late, and she was already making a beeline straight for him.

The beguiling dominatrix took a seat next to Seb— _Jim’s_ seat.

“Fancy meeting you here, Moran. Long time, no see.”

“Indeed. You’ve held up remarkably well for a dead woman. Tell me, what’s your secret?”

“Sex, gin, and good genes. Not necessarily in that order.”

“Cheers,” he pithily replied, raising his glass in mock salute.

She smiled, raking her eyes over him. “I must say, you’re looking exceptionally suave. Are you here for business or pleasure?”

“What concern is it of yours?”

“Curiosity, is all. You needn’t be defensive.”

“Pardon the lack of manners, but you’re crashing my date.” He motioned to the half-empty cocktail sitting near the stool Irene had usurped.   

She glanced at the drink. “A Shirley Temple? Really, Sebastian? Please tell me you’re not romancing a teetotaler. Or worse, an underage girl.”

“Hardly.” _Presumptuous bitch._

“I suppose it’s not my place to pass judgment. To each their own.” Adler paused, considering something. “Regrettably, I’m here on business. However, that doesn’t mean I’m averse to finding a bit of pleasure when and where I can.”

 _Where is she headed with this?_ Seb was almost afraid to find out.

“We used to have fun together,” Irene said, casually slipping a well-manicured hand onto his thigh. “I wouldn’t be opposed to a rendezvous for old times’ sake. Perhaps once you’re through with your date tonight. Or, if you’ve an open-minded partner, maybe a different sort of meetup could be arranged.”

Moran removed the woman’s hand from his body and stared at her, unwavering. “I don’t do that anymore, Irene. I’m dedicated to the relationship I’m in.”

She let out a flustered laugh. “You, one the biggest philanderers I know, is in an exclusive relationship? Now I’ve heard everything. Next you’ll claim to be married with two kids and a dog.”

 _Not far off._ “People change. They grow and evolve. I did, and I’m happier for it.”

Adler scowled at him. “People lie to themselves, you mean. We are who we are, Sebastian. Pretending otherwise is a nice fantasy, but sooner or later, reality will catch up.”

At that moment, Jim reemerged from the bathroom. He was none too thrilled when he spotted a woman in his seat, and became even more annoyed when he realized who she was. His hormones were flaring, and instinct alerted him that a potential competitor was horning in on _his alpha._ He could _not_ permit this.

The consulting criminal sauntered over, making an effort to sit on his husband’s lap, but not quite being able to heft himself up properly. The assassin had to assist, actually lifting him with both arms in order to secure him in place.    

“Not so dead after all, aye?” the genius spoke, addressing Irene.

“No. You either, huh?”

“Well, I’m sitting here, so obviously not. Duh.”    

Irene focused her sights on Seb. “This is the recipient of your undying fidelity? I never would’ve guessed.”

“Don’t feel badly about it, dear,” the Irishman quipped. “You’re not the sharpest of the lot. I’m sure a great many things elude you.” 

“Still as charming as ever, Moriarty.”

“I do try.”

“Jim and I were just grabbing a nightcap. We really should get to our room,” Seb stated. He wanted to vacate this situation, pronto.

“I suppose I understand the Shirley Temple now,” Adler commented, glancing at the drink and then back to the couple. “You look like you’re positively ready to pop. I guess that kind of weight gain really shows on a person your size. Not as many places to distribute the pounds.”

The mastermind was stricken by her stinging remark, but he had to put on a brave face. “Honey, don’t even attempt to be clever. It doesn’t suit you.”    

Irene was about to respond when her phone went off. She checked the device and swiftly stood up. Clearly, she received whatever message she’d been waiting for.

“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have business to attend to. It’s been splendid chatting.” And just like that, she was gone. It was almost as if she existed in ephemeral form— a ghost, sent to rattle their bones and then vanish into the night.  

“Thank God,” Seb said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I was beginning to think she’d never leave.”

“That fucking cunt should’ve stayed dead,” Jim spat. “Maybe we ought to remedy her resurrection.”

“Magpie, we’re on holiday. Let’s not kill anyone for now, okay? I want to savor this time away with you.”

Moriarty took a deep, calming breath. “You’re right, love. Seeing her invade my territory set me on edge. And that awful remark…”

“She was just trying to push your buttons. Don’t let it get to you.” The sniper took advantage of his spouse’s placement on his lap, leaning in to nuzzle the man’s neck.

There is was again. That alluringly sweet scent. It seemed to be growing more pronounced by the day.

“Jimmy, you smell like heaven,” he declared, littering the exposed section of skin with hungry kisses.

“I think the scent gets stronger as pregnancy progresses, if I remember my high school biology text correctly,” the consulting criminal teased, enjoying the attention he was being given.

Sebastian grunted. “I never got to put on a show for you last night,” he whispered hotly into the omega’s ear. “I think it’s time to amend that.”

Jim’s eyes blazed with an all-consuming lust. He could feel his mate’s burgeoning arousal as it pressed against his backside, and he wanted _more_.

“Do your worst, darling.”

Moran required no further encouragement. In an instant, he was carrying his Magpie out of the bar and into an elevator headed upstairs. They mustn’t dally— this was to be a performance for the ages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	43. The Road Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time for Jim and Sebastian to head home.
> 
>    
> Note: This is meant to be a transitionary installment, rather low-key, but bridging the gap between them being on vacation for Seb's birthday and returning to London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sunlight shined through a gap in the curtains, signaling a new day had arisen for the Tiger and his Magpie. This was no ordinary morning. After four glorious days spent in Monte Carlo, it was time for the couple to bid France adieu.

Jim shifted in Sebastian’s arms, maneuvering so that he could kiss the sleepy sniper. Moran began to stir at the feel of his lover’s lips, humming softly as he awakened.

“Morning, my dear,” Moriarty whispered.

“Already? I don’t believe it.”

“I’m afraid so, Sebby.”

“Let’s pretend it isn’t.”

“Sorry, darling, but we’ve got a long day ahead of us. I say we get the ball rolling bright and early.”

The mastermind sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, attempting to stand. He grumbled in frustration as his efforts failed.

“I need some help here, Tiger.” Jim looked towards his husband, affecting a coquettish stare. He was trying to appear as enticing as possible to get the man moving.

“Of course.” Moran rose from the mattress and approached Moriarty, carefully easing him into an upright position. “There you go. Better?”

“Much. Thanks, hon.”

“I aim to please,” he said with a wink. “How about we grab some breakfast and then I bring our luggage to the car?”

“Excellent suggestion. I’m itching to get on the road.”

Seb nodded. As wonderful as their mini-vacation had been, he understood why the Irishman was so keen to return to London. It was because they had a bigoted son of a bitch in their midst. Ever since the vandalism incident at the party, both he and his partner wanted to determine who was responsible for the heinous display. The sooner they got home, the sooner they could probe the situation.  

“By the way, you’ll be riding shotgun for the trip back.” Jim flashed a cheeky, devil-may-care grin at the assassin.

“Is that a fact?” He wasn’t sure how to take the news. On one hand, Moriarty _was_ footing the bill for the Ferrari rental. So really, he had every right to drive it. But on the other hand, Seb was feeling fiercely protective. The idea of his mate behind the wheel of a sports car filled him with dread. There was so much potential danger involved.

“You bet your ass it’s a fact. I rented the bloody thing— I ought to have a crack at driving it. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

“Oh, I think you’ve had a great deal of fun these past few days,” Moran flirtatiously replied.

Ever since the duo’s run-in with Irene at the hotel bar, they’d decided to cut themselves off from the rest of the world. They powered down their phones and only left their room to occasionally dine at the downstairs restaurant. All other time was spent together, basking in a suite that’d become a veritable love nest. It was a place of absolute bliss.

Jim blushed slightly at his alpha’s insinuation. He _had_ been insatiable, no doubt about it. The genius’s libido was skyrocketing off the charts. He figured it had to be hormonal, and made a mental note to mention it to Dr. Swenson at his next prenatal appointment.         

“Fancy a shower before we go eat?” Seb asked.

“Sounds lovely, though I may require your assistance reaching a few spots.” Bending down was not something the consulting criminal could do easily anymore. Thank goodness he had such an attentive spouse. 

“Whatever you need, I will humbly oblige,” the blonde assured. Sharing his life with Jim was a privilege and he took none of it for granted. Even performing small tasks for the man was a blessing.

*********

The trip home was considerably more pleasant than the ride out had been. For starters, they were actually talking this time around. Hours on the road flew by faster once conversation was introduced. It also helped that they no longer had an arrival deadline looming overhead. While the pair wished to travel with expediency, they could be a bit more flexible in terms of making pit stops along the way.

“If you get tired at any point, say the word and I’ll take the wheel,” Sebastian spoke.

“Tiger, I believe that’s the third time you’ve made such an offer. I appreciate the thought, but I’m a big boy. I can manage driving us back to the rental lot in one piece.”

“I know, I just worry. If I could, I’d probably cover you in bubble wrap for protection,” he teased.

Jim chuckled. “Bubble wrap, aye? Why stop there? A giant hamster ball would have so much more flair.”

“Not a bad idea. If you started to get on my nerves, I could roll you in the opposite direction. Problem solved.”

“It goes both ways, darling. If you pissed me off, I could roll right over you— splat, like a bug.”

“Well, then, remind me to stay on your good side.”

The two men smiled warmly at each other, feeling more carefree than they had in ages. Seb was delighted to see his mate in better spirits. He loved laughing and joking with Jim; loved the playful rapport between them. After all he’d been through this past year, his Magpie deserved happiness.

Moriarty hissed, inhaling sharply. “Aaah, that was a strong one.”

“One what? A kick?”

“Yeah. Forget dance and football— these babies are training to be martial artists. At this rate, they may soon qualify for black belts in utero.”

“They’re feisty, Jim, just like you.”

Moran didn’t think it possible, but his husband’s grin somehow grew even wider than it already was.

“Oh, Tiger, I do hope so. I want our children to exemplify the best of us both.”

“That’s a nice thought, Jimmy. I hope so, too.” Indeed, he did. Because if they inherited their less than admirable traits, heaven help anyone who got in Essie and Eddie’s way. The world may not be able to handle them.

There was a brief pause before the mastermind spoke again. “I’m considering joining a specialized pregnancy group when we get back to London.”

“Really?” This was the first Seb was hearing of it.

“Yes, it’s supposed to be for expectant male omegas. Meant to facilitate interaction with others who are going through the same thing.”

“Sounds like a fine idea.” Maybe Jim could find solidarity amongst them.

“I didn’t even realize such a group existed until Annie told me about it at the party. Her brother-in-law used to attend meetings before he had his daughter.”

 “Hmm…would I be allowed to accompany you?” These days, he really didn’t like leaving Jim unattended for too long.

“I don’t think so. From what she said, partners aren’t generally included.”

The policy made sense. Male omegas faced unique challenges. By keeping the group private, it enabled them to create a safe space where they could find security and support without fear of outside judgment. 

“Ah, I get it. Keep the spouses away so you can vent your frustrations about us,” Moran jested.

“An omega having frustrations with their alpha?” he asked in mock surprise. “You’ll turn society on its ear with that revelation.”

“I’m counting on it,” the former colonel deadpanned. “In other news, the sky is blue and grass is green. You’re married to an astonishingly perceptive man, kitten.”

For just a second, during a stop in traffic, Moriarty took his eyes off the road to shoot Seb a glance. Brief as it was, it told the assassin all he needed to know. Jim was happy. Despite the endless stresses of life, he was genuinely content.

“Tiger?”

“Yes?”

“You can take the wheel. I think I’m ready for a nap,” he declared, his statement punctuated with a yawn.

“Okay.”

The genius soon pulled over to the shoulder of the road, where he and Seb swapped places. Settling into the passenger side, Jim reclined his seat while the assassin pulled something from his backpack. It was a fleece blanket.

“Here, let me tuck you in.” He covered up the smaller man and placed a kiss to his forehead. “Sweet dreams, darling.”

“Love you, Sebby,” the consulting criminal cooed, snuggling against the soft material.

“Love you, too.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of the idea of Jim joining a pregnancy group? I thought it might be interesting, to see him interact with other expectant male omegas, and maybe even find a way to relate to otherwise "ordinary" people. I think there's potential in the situation.


	44. London Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> London’s most dangerous men return to the city they adore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

At last, Jim and Sebastian were home. It felt good to be back in London. The only aspect they were less than thrilled about was the brisk English air and dreary skies that greeted them on arrival. Too bad the British Isles didn’t have the same temperate conditions as Saint-Tropez.

Once Seb brought their luggage inside, he got to work unloading the postbox. For having been gone a week, a shocking amount of items had amassed.

“God, look at it all,” Jim exclaimed as the sniper dropped the pile onto the coffee table.

“We wouldn’t have so much junk mail if you didn’t keep sending away for catalogues.”

“Hush. You know what a savvy shopper I am.”

Moriarty sifted through the stack, stopping when he came across an envelope addressed to his husband. Actually, it was listed as being both _to_ and _from_ Moran. He had to double check that he’d read it correctly, before quickly realizing what he was looking at.

“Tiger, your brother sent you something.”

“Hmm?” Seb took the envelope and saw for himself that the return address was indeed credited to an ‘S. Moran’ in Melbourne, Australia. He opened the mailing and discovered it was a birthday card.

 

_Dear Sebastian,_

_Happy 40 th. Sorry I can’t be there to celebrate with you. Hope the day treats you well. _

_Sincerely,_

_Severin_

 

“Short and to the point. Sounds like Sev, all right.”

“Since I’ve known you, that’s the first card he’s sent,” Jim mused.

“Yeah, it is. Maybe he’s serious about wanting to reconnect.”

“Oh, I know he is. When I met with him, he was very sincere. He regrets letting so much time go by without speaking to you.”

The assassin shrugged. “Severin had his own life to lead. I understood that.”

“Perhaps, but he still feels badly about it.”

Moran sighed. “I’d offer to call him so we could catch up, but with the time zone difference, I don’t think it’s feasible.”

“Might I suggest you try texting or email? There are more methods of correspondence out there than just the telephone.”

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I guess a part of me is reluctant because I wouldn’t know where to start. ‘Hello, how’ve you been for the past 25-years?’ How do you even begin a conversation like that?”

“I don’t have all the answers, Tiger. But if there’s one thing I’ve come to realize these past few months, it’s that family is invaluable. I never had relatives growing up, so the concept didn’t faze me. But carrying our children has put things into perspective. They’re my flesh and blood, and I would do anything for them. The same goes for you, too,” Moriarty professed. “I— no, scratch that— _we_ have a family now, and I cherish it. So I think you ought not worry about what you say to your brother. Just the fact that you’re reaching out to him is the important part. Content is secondary to the gesture in and of itself.”

Sebastian paused, contemplating his mate’s words. “When did you become so wise?”

“I’ve always been a visionary, my dear. Though I do tend to believe I’ve gained greater clarity of late.”

The blonde smiled warmly. Pregnancy really had brought out something wonderful in Jim. Hell, it was having a positive effect on them both. “Have I told you yet today how much I adore you?”

“You have, but it’s the sort of thing that bears repeating,” he answered with a sly expression on his face.

Seb gazed in awe at the other man, utterly spellbound. Sometimes he felt so much affection for Jim, it was overwhelming. His heart swelled at the mere sight and sound of him, cresting in ways he could not possibly convey through language alone.

The consulting criminal glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a fabulous idea. Let’s go to high tea. I’m sure they must offer an herbal blend at _The Ritz_ or _The Savoy_.”

Ah, yes, high tea. Several upscale establishments held such proceedings on a daily basis. The events were always expensive, urbane, and featured a strict ‘jacket and tie, no jeans’ policy. Naturally, Moriarty loved to attend. Moran, not so much. But if it pleased Jim, he would oblige.

“Admit it, Magpie— this is just an excuse to get me into a suit.”

“Nooooo. It’s a way of getting you into a suit _while also_ enjoying the finer delicacies of life. You see? There’s a subtle difference.”

_That cheeky git._ “Brilliant logic, darling. I don’t know how you manage it.”

“With smoke and mirrors,” he sassed back. “Now go on and get changed. I want you to wear the pinstripe Westwood I bought you last Christmas.”

The sniper quirked an eyebrow. Jim _loved_ him in that suit. Well, more to the point, he loved taking him _out_ of it.

“Planning some post-tea activities, are we?”

“Now that you mention it, I did want to pop in at headquarters. After what happened at the party, I think I should make my presence known. Show whoever committed the vandalism that I won’t be intimidated in any way.”

“Oh. Okay, sure. We can do that if you’d like.” The disappointment in Seb’s voice was palpable.

Now it was Jim’s turn to raise a brow. “Tiiiiiiger,” he drawled, “what did yoooouu have in mind, hmm?”

“Nothing much. Just countless hours of unbridled passion, punctuated by screams of ecstasy echoing through the night.”

Moriarty gasped. “Oh my. Well, the day’s still young. I think we have plenty of time to tackle that endeavor, don’t you?”

Moran grunted hungrily at the prospect. He wanted to say, ‘to hell with tea and headquarters,’ and simply drag the Irishman off to the bedroom. But he had too much respect for Jim to do that. It would be wrong to place his desires above those of his mate’s. An expectant omega was to be revered.

“I’ll get dressed right now,” Seb said.

“Good. And hon? Do put on your burgundy tie. It really brings out your eyes.”

“Yes, sir.” Who was he to argue with fashion advice from Mr. Sex?

*********

High tea at _The Ritz_ proved interesting, and not necessarily in a good way. Service was impeccable and the food and drink were excellent— they even had multiple varieties of herbal brew for Jim to sample. The patrons, however, were another story.

Jim and Seb recognized many of the guests that afternoon. A number of businessmen and women they’d had prior dealings with made an appearance. Most were not willing to acknowledge the duo, a fact which became increasingly difficult to deny.

While it’s true that some may not wish to openly fraternize with a man as infamous as James Moriarty, he would typically be afforded a polite greeting or nod. Today, though, it seemed people were actively avoiding eye contact with him and his sniper. Worse, the handful of times he did catch someone glancing their way, it was accompanied by hushed chatter.

“I _know_ they’re gossiping, Seb. Running their fucking mouths as though they’ve got nothing better to do,” Jim spat. “What a disgraceful bunch of prigs.”

“I thought you didn’t care what others said about you?” Moran remarked, taking a sip of Earl Grey.

The consulting criminal glared at his mate. “I care when we’re being blatantly disrespected, and you should, too. This is appalling.”

“I’ll grant you it’s strange, but for the sake of your health, you can’t let it upset you.”

“How can I _not?_ I demand to know why we’re suddenly being given the cold shoulder. There’s got to be a reason.”

Sebastian paused, considering the situation. “Maybe they’re just not used to seeing you pregnant,” he suggested. “It’s been a while since we’ve done much socializing around the city, and working from home, you take conference calls rather than hold meetings in person. It could be that some folks simply haven’t seen you like this before and it’s jarring to them.”

Moriarty’s look of frustration grew more intense. “Why would it jar them, Seb? And why would they be avoiding you as well?” The Irishman’s tone was razor sharp, his features becoming animated as he spoke.

“Magpie, you’re the most dangerous man in London. Like it or not, that kind of reputation carries expectations and ideals. ‘Tough guy’ stereotypes, really,” the assassin stated. “The notion of you bearing children is probably a surprise to a lot of people because they only view you as a criminal extraordinaire. They don’t get to witness the sides of you that I do. They don’t realize how multifaceted you are, and so it’s shocking to them,” Seb asserted. “As for them snubbing me…well, it could be because they suspect I’m the father. Logic dictates this wasn’t an immaculate conception, and we do spend a fair amount of time together.”

The genius sighed, reflecting on his husband’s hypothesis. He raised good points. Perhaps that’s all this was— a kneejerk reaction to an unanticipated occurrence, e.g., his pregnancy, and the speculation as to who’d put him in such a state. At that rate, was this truly worth getting worked up over?

Jim stared into the boundless depths of Seb’s blue eyes, admiring the strength and wisdom housed within. He loved that he and his Tiger could talk through things together. Though neither relished flowery, emotional discussions, impending parenthood had gone a long way towards helping them open up and be completely honest with one another. He dare say they’d reached a new level of intimacy in their relationship and had never been stronger as a couple. It was exhilarating.

“You’re probably right,” Moriarty finally said. “I don’t know why I insist upon overcomplicating matters.”

“It’s because you’re slightly neurotic,” the sniper teased. “But that’s fine by me— I find it rather endearing.”

He snorted. “ _Endearing_? Please. I annoy myself sometimes. It’s these bloody hormones, I swear.”

Sebastian smiled at his mate. Jim could try pinning this on the babies all he liked, but it didn’t make it so. He’d always been high-strung, pregnant or not.

“Tiger?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Are you going to finish that?” the omega asked, eyeing up a half-eaten finger sandwich on Seb’s plate.

“I’ve had my fill,” he warmly replied. 

Moriarty wasted no time polishing off the leftovers. He also made short work of his last few biscuits and tea. Before he knew it, all that remained was an empty platter.

“I think I’m done,” the Irishman spoke. “Let’s pay the bill and stop in at headquarters.”

“Sounds good. Then, after we’re through there, we’ll have time for _other_ endeavors,” Moran reminded with a wink.

“You’re insatiable, darling.”

Seb flashed him a smoldering gleam. “And you _love_ it.”

“I dooooo.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	45. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something strange is afoot. Jim and Sebastian demand to know what’s going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

It was late afternoon when Jim and Sebastian dropped by headquarters. As soon as they walked in, they got the sense that something wasn’t quite right. Everyone suddenly grew silent at their presence and no one wanted to make eye contact with them. It was reminiscent of what had occurred during high tea at _The Ritz_.

Moriarty pulled his mate aside to discuss the curious situation. “Okay, this is getting too strange. It can’t be a coincidence that we’ve received the same reception twice in one day. Something is going on.”

“It does seem odd,” the sniper admitted. He’d been quick to write off the reactions at the hotel, but this development called his original assumption into question. Maybe there really _was_ more to it than he thought.

“We need to figure this out. I’ve got half a mind to address the room and ask them what their bloody problem is.”

“Wait,” Seb said, remembering how he’d dealt with a similar situation once before. “Let’s talk to your secretary. She knows the inner-workings of this office like the back of her hand.” When people started gossiping during Jim’s kidnapping ordeal, Suzy was the one he turned to for information. Why not approach her again now?

“Okay,” the mastermind agreed. “I’ll call her in for a meeting.”

Moran nodded, eager to get answers. There was definitely something afoot and they deserved to know the truth.

*********

KNOCK. KNOCK.

“Come in,” Jim commanded, and Suzy entered his office.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Moriarty?”

“Yes. Please shut the door behind you and take a seat.”

The woman did as directed, sitting opposite him and Seb. “How may I help you, sir?”

“You can tell us what’s going on around here,” he sharply replied. “It’s obvious people were reacting in a peculiar manner when we arrived. What we don’t know is why. Care to shed some light on the subject?”

Her expression sank. “You’re… _unaware_ of recent events?” The secretary’s voice was equal parts saddened and surprised.

Jim and Sebastian exchanged a worried glance. What exactly happened while they were away, and why were they only now finding out about it? This was terribly disconcerting.

“Apparently, we’ve missed a few things. Bring us up to speed.”

“I…well…I’m not sure how to say this,” she stammered, visibly nervous.

“We’re all adults here,” Sebastian interjected. “Whatever it is, surely we can handle it.”

Suzy stared at the formidable men, appearing very much on edge. Neither had seen her like this before. She generally conducted herself with poise and efficiency.

“Come on,” Jim hissed. “Just tell us, for Christ’s sake.” His tone was harsher than he’d intended it to be.

“I’m sorry, sir. This is difficult for me to explain.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “Have you checked your email lately?”

Moriarty’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Email? What’s that got to do with it?”

“We’ve had our phones turned off since the first night in Monaco,” Moran stated. They’d been so wrapped up in each other, they hadn’t bothered powering them back on, nor had they logged onto a computer, either. The break from technology was refreshing.

“Oh, dear…” Suzy fretfully remarked.

“What? Why is that important?” Jim exclaimed, beginning to lose his composure.

The duo simultaneously whipped out their mobile devices, firing them up for the first time in days. If something significant had come through the mail, they were determined to see it for themselves. After about 60 seconds, their phones successfully booted and they were able to view new messages.        

Jim saw what was circulating and instantly went into a fit. His blood pressure monitor began to blare and he shook so badly he dropped his phone. Sebastian was also taken off guard, growling loudly as the mobile screen cracked under the force of his grip.

This was worse than they ever could’ve dreamt. Some sick son of a bitch had violated their privacy in one of the vilest ways imaginable. They’d secretly recorded the couple in their Monte Carlo hotel room— specifically, the night when Seb had given his husband what he thought was a ‘private dance performance’ and then made love to him for hours.

To add insult to injury, the twisted voyeur did the unthinkable and forwarded the video across headquarters, cc’ing it to some outside business associates as well. The original sender’s identity was encrypted, but a brief message was attached: _You don’t get to walk away._

The sniper had no time to think about what the ominous comment might mean. Jim was fading fast and required his immediate attention.

“S-S-S,” Moriarty attempted to speak Seb’s name, but the words would not come out. He was deathly pale, beads of sweat running down ashen skin.    

“Jimmy, please try to breathe. I know this is upsetting, but remember your techniques.”

It wasn’t working. This bout of anxiety had hit him more intensely than the last, and the genius was too far gone for simple remedies. Sebastian quickly realized the severity of the situation when the man clutched his chest and slumped over in his chair.

In a flash, Seb scooped up his ailing mate and laid him down on a nearby couch. Is this what a heart attack looked like, or a stroke? He was terrified of the possibilities.

“Call an ambulance NOW!” the former colonel roared at Suzy.

She did as she was told, rushing to get ahold of emergency services while Seb tried his damnedest to keep Jim conscious. It was a losing battle. 

“Stay with me, Magpie, please!” he begged.   

The consulting criminal was clammy and motioning to undo his tie. Moran took notice and helped him loosen the accessory, also unfastening the first few buttons of his shirt. He could feel how hard Jim’s heart was beating— it pounded wildly, as if trying to escape his chest.

Sebastian listened to his spouse whimper and pant, helpless as to what was going on. All he could do was hold him in his arms and whisper words of reassurance until the paramedics arrived. The wait was interminable, but he never left Moriarty’s side, riding along with him to the hospital.

As they rushed Jim into the facility, Moran was forced to let go of his hand and allow the doctors to do their work. The anguished sound the Irishman made in response was the saddest thing Seb had ever heard. After that, the tears he’d struggled not to shed flowed without end.

*********

The sniper was at a total loss. He’d gotten the hell out of the waiting room and went to the hospital’s gift shop instead. He just couldn’t bear sitting there, not knowing what condition his Magpie was in. When they wheeled him away, it was almost too much to take.

He looked around, staring vacantly at the items on display. They had trinkets for every occasion, from condolences to congratulations and all that lay in between.

 _Too bad they don’t have a pack of Marlboro’s._  

Seb stopped smoking at Jim’s behest when they began trying to conceive. The anxious omega didn’t want to risk exposing their potential unborn child to toxic agents. It hadn’t been easy to quit, and there were many times since then that he’d considered starting back up. Somehow, though, he always remained steadfast, even while Moriarty was being held in captivity.

Tonight was different. Tonight, he’d seen and experienced things that made him yearn for his old, trusty combo of whiskey and cigarettes. It was the bitter, burning comfort he’d relied upon for so long.     

But his thoughts inevitably returned to Jim. To his madcap kitten who loved him in spite of his innumerable flaws. It wouldn’t be right to light up again. Wouldn’t be what he wanted.

Moran snorted. It was hilarious to think that Jim was apparently the angel on his shoulder, discouraging him from certain vice. Who’d have figured?

And then the assassin saw them— bubblegum cigars sitting on the shelf. With a bleak laugh, he grabbed a box.

_Call it a compromise._

Only moments later, he noticed something else on display. It was a white stuffed dog resembling the canine who’d crashed his and Jim’s picnic in Saint-Tropez. How could he resist buying that, too? The genius would surely get a kick out of it.   

Seb made his purchases and exited the shop. He walked the halls, refusing to go back to that damnable waiting room. His mind wandered as well.

 _We were spied on. Recorded. Intimately exposed._ The reality of it hit him like a ton of bricks.

He and Moriarty were the victims of an outrageous violation and there was no way to fix it. No way to undo the damage. People had seen that video. The whole fucking office was now privy to their most private activities. How could he look any of them in the eye again?

The sniper was startled by the sudden ring of his phone. Amazing it still worked after the crushing grasp he had on it earlier.

“Hello?”

“Is this Sebastian Moran?”

“It is. Why?”

“I’m an attendant nurse in the Urgent Care unit at St. Thomas’ Hospital, and we have a patient here who’s been asking for you. He wanted to contact you himself, but didn’t have his mobile on him. He gave me your number so that I could get ahold of you instead.”

“He’s up and alert?” Seb was pleased to hear of Jim’s cognizance, but also felt guilt over the fact that he hadn’t been there when his husband requested him. He should’ve kept his ass planted firmly in that waiting room, but no, he just _had_ to get out of there. Had to behave like a selfish twat and turn tail at the sign of trouble. It was inexcusable.

“Yes, sir. The patient, James, is stable and would very much like to see you. The physician who treated him wishes to speak to you, too. There are some matters he wants to discuss.”

 _Oh no._ The former colonel felt sick to his stomach. Doctors never wanted to have conversations about good things. They only sought out meetings when bad news was involved. At this point, he wasn’t sure he could withstand any more distress.   

“Are you still there, sir?” The line had gone silent as Seb’s mind went into overdrive. 

“I’m here. Sorry.”

“No apologies needed. Just come to room 106. Mr. Moriarty is waiting.”

“Understood.”

With a heavy heart, Moran ended the call and headed for the specified address. Whatever happened, he and Jim would face it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	46. I’ll Stand by You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian stays by Jim’s side during a bout of physical and emotional unrest. Serious matters are discussed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian entered Jim’s room and hurried to his bedside, hugging him tightly. A rush of emotion flooded their embrace, speaking volumes without the use of a single word. Neither wanted to let go, but after several seconds, the mastermind was the one to relent.

“Where were you?” he wearily inquired.

“I was at the gift shop,” Seb answered, presenting the bag he’d brought with him. “Take a look.”  

The Irishman peeked inside, smiling faintly when he saw its contents. “Candy cigars and an adorable little dog, aye?”

“Not just any little dog,” the blonde was quick to point out. “It’s a miniature version of Sadie. You seemed quite taken with her.”

“I was. Thank you, Tiger.” He held the toy in his hands, staring at it contemplatively. “I think this should be Essie and Eddie’s first stuffed animal. We’ll buy a second one so they don’t have to fight over it.”

“That’s a wonderful idea. All babies need something to snuggle.”

Jim nodded and then grew silent, clutching the stuffed doll. His huge dark eyes were haunted, full of sadness and dread. He was overwhelmed, struggling to keep his feelings in check.

“It’ll be okay, love,” the sniper said. It pained him to see his omega in such distress. He was already making a mental checklist of people to maim and destroy. So far, it included Colin, the vandal, and the bastard who’d recorded them in their hotel room. The roster mounted by the day.

“Sebby, I’m sorry.” Moriarty sounded utterly broken, all bravado absent from his voice.

“You’ve got no reason to be. This wasn’t your fault.”

“Isn’t it? I flipped out and ended up in the bloody hospital again. If I wasn’t so fucking weak, we wouldn’t be here.”

“You reacted to a horrifying situation,” the former colonel stated. “We’ve been wronged and I can’t fault you for getting upset. It was a shock in every sense of the word.”

Jim paused, taking a deep breath. “I just can’t abide what’s happened. There was a time when I wouldn’t have given a toss about someone taping me like that. Hell, I’d have probably gotten a laugh out of it,” he confessed. “But nowadays, my mind is in a different place. What we do together is special to me and I don’t want to share the experience with anyone else. I’m sure that sounds incredibly lame, but it’s the truth.”

Sebastian smiled. “It’s not lame at all. I understand completely. It’s special to me, too.”

When the couple initially met, the assassin was a cad of the highest order. His conquests were fleeting sources of pleasure, meant as mindless ways to occupy his time. In that sense, they had something in common. Both men were restless beyond reason, seeking distractions wherever they could. Somehow they found solace in each other, and as their relationship bloomed, Seb felt less like he was having a fling and more like he was engaging in a true romance. Crazy as it was, he’d fallen in love. The intimacy they shared was precious to him and had remained so ever since.

At that moment, the on-call physician who’d treated Jim walked in. He was a stoic middle-aged fellow, carrying himself with utmost professionalism.

“Hello, gentlemen. I’m Dr. Callahan,” he introduced. “Glad to have the both of you present.” Handshakes were exchanged and he continued, “Mr. Moriarty, there are some things regarding your health that must be discussed.”

The Tiger and his Magpie clasped hands, readying themselves for whatever lay ahead. They took a vow assuring mutual devotion in sickness and in health, and they weren’t about to break the promise now.

“You reported to an attending nurse that you’ve been suffering anxiety attacks off and on throughout the duration of your pregnancy, correct?”

“That’s right,” he replied. “I’ve had them before, but never as intense as today.”

“Based on your EKG readings, I think I can explain what happened.”

“Go on,” the genius encouraged, squeezing Moran’s hand a little bit tighter.

“Well, taking into account your history of symptoms and your most recent results, I believe you have a slight arrhythmia that’s playing a role in these attacks.”   

“What?” Jim asked in confusion. “That’s impossible. This is the third time I’ve been hospitalized within the past six months. If I had the condition you’re claiming I do, surely someone would’ve caught it by now.”

The doctor’s suggestion scared the hell out of Seb. He was no medical expert, but he recognized that an arrhythmia was related to the heart.

“It’s not the kind of thing that’s noticeable right away and it can be easy to miss when it’s a minor case,” the physician explained. “Basically, your heart is occasionally beating a little too fast. During your anxiety attacks, the adrenaline surge is compounding the matter, causing you to experience tachycardic episodes.”

Moriarty was visibly distraught by the news. “Can it be treated?”

“Honestly, there’s not a whole lot that can be done beyond keeping calm and avoiding stress in your life. In all likelihood, the arrhythmia was probably brought on by the pregnancy. Once you deliver, there’s a strong chance your heartbeat will return to normal.”   

“Thank God,” Sebastian uttered aloud. It was a huge relief to know that this was only temporary.

“It’s possible that blood flow to the fetus may be compromised during these attacks,” the doctor warned. “This is something to be mindful of because your twins are still developing. Furthermore, we don’t want to risk the possibility of triggering premature labor.”  

Jim was truly stricken. It took every ounce of fortitude within him not to cry. “What’s wrong with me?” he asked. “The high blood pressure, the stroke risk, the kidney damage risk, and now this. Why does my body _hate_ my babies?” The anguish in his voice was harrowing.

“All pregnancies are different, and some can pose more challenges than others. Certainly, one could consider factors such as lifestyle and family history, but at the end of the day, sometimes things just happen without a definitive reason as to why.”

A sudden fury flashed in the mastermind’s eyes, his pain turning to anger. “I demand a second opinion.” 

“Of course, you’re welcome to consult with whomever you like,” Dr. Callahan acknowledged. “I could refer you to cardiology where they’d be able to run additional tests.”

“Do that.”

“Very well. Rest up and I’ll start making the arrangements.”

“Good. Now _get out_.”

The physician exited in short order. As soon as he was gone, Sebastian piped up.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes, Seb, it is. I refuse to believe that my body has betrayed me this badly. That it’s responsible for hurting our children over and over again.”

Moran was unsettled by his mate’s remark. Clearly, the man blamed himself for his own medical problems. This was _not_ good.

“Jimmy, I don’t think your health issues are anyone’s fault. Who knows why the human body responds the way it does? Take me, for example. I’m allergic to avocadoes. Too much guacamole and I break into hives. It’s weird as fuck and no one’s ever been able to figure out why. It simply _is_ , through no wrongdoing of mine.”

The consulting criminal shook his head. “That’s not the same thing. You’re talking about a bloody food allergy. I’m talking about a failure to safely sustain our children’s lives. There’s a _big_ difference,” he insisted. “I’m having the additional tests done and that’s final.”

Seb sighed. It was no use arguing. Ultimately, he’d do whatever he pleased.

“All right, kitten. If you really want this, I’ll stand by you.” The sniper leaned in and kissed the top of Jim’s head, snuggling him close.

_This is going to be a long night._

*********

Dr. Callahan made good on his offer to have Moriarty evaluated by the cardiology department. A battery of tests were performed and now he had to wait for the results. Until those came in, he and Sebastian were left alone in the mastermind’s private room.

“Tell me something, Tiger. Do you think that the vandalism incident at your party and the hotel room recording could be related?”

 _Oh boy._ The assassin had wondered about that, too.

“I don’t know, hon. Can’t rule it out at this point.”

“And what about Irene?”

Seb arched a brow. “What of her?”

“Do you suppose she might be involved? She was at the hotel the night we were spied on.”

“Truthfully, no, I don’t believe she is. Adler may use scandal to her advantage, but in the form of blackmail. Not like this.”

“Yeah, that’s not her style at all,” Jim agreed. “You know, before I dropped my phone, I saw the message attached to the video mailing. It reminded me of…”

“Colin,” Seb said, completing the thought. “It was similar to the kind of notes he would leave us.”

 _You don’t get to walk away._ That sounded exactly like something he’d say. Vague threats and sinister statements were his calling card.

But how could it be possible? He was locked up. There’d been no reports of him escaping the authorities. And even if he had, how would he have known the location of the party and the hotel they were staying at? Unless he’d somehow gained the power of clairvoyance, it was improbable. 

“Logically, I realize there’s no way it could be him,” the genius began, “but it just _feels_ like it is.” Moriarty paused, turning an idea over in his mind. “Maybe…maybe he’s got an accomplice?”

Jim’s words hung in the air, the chilling suggestion filling both men with dread. If true, it meant that Colin was working with someone they knew. Someone they employed, for that matter. An individual who had access to their inner-circle and could strike at any time. It was a terrifying notion.

“That settles it, then. Tomorrow we delve deep into the backgrounds of our most recent hires. It’s got to be one of them,” Moran fumed. “I’m sorry I let this happen on my watch. You trusted me to vet our newest employees, and I allowed some traitorous cretin into the fold. I failed you, Magpie.”

“Never, darling. You did the best you could. Whoever this rogue operative is, they must’ve provided decent credentials for you to have given them a chance. You couldn’t have known their true alliance.”

“I just wish I’d protected you better. That’s all I ever want to do, Jimmy. Protect you and our cubs.”

KNOCK. KNOCK.

There was an abrupt rapping at the door, and seconds later, a nurse walked in.

“Good evening. My name is Jane and I assist the department head. I’ve been authorized to deliver Mr. Moriarty’s test results. If he has any questions regarding them, I can put him in touch with our lead cardiologist.”

“Okay, what’s the verdict?” Jim asked.

The woman paged through the paperwork in her hands. “According to this, the attending ER physician’s diagnosis was correct. You have a very minor arrhythmia that’s acting in conjunction with your panic attacks. It’s recommended you take things easy. Avoid potential stressors and cut caffeine from your diet.”

“He already avoids caffeine on account of his blood pressure,” Seb was quick to note.

“That’s great,” she cheerfully replied. “Keep doing what you’re doing, then.”

There was an awkward silence as Jane waited for acknowledgement from Jim himself. Usually the person receiving results would engage in some form of communication with her; exhibit a sign that they understood what she’d told them.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Jim’s monitor shrilly rang out as he shook with rage.     

“LIAR!” the Irishman shouted. He attempted to leap off the bed and lunge at her, but did not have enough mobility to complete the task. Instead, he fell and landed belly-first onto the tile floor.

“Jimmy!” Moran exclaimed, horrified at what he’d witnessed. He knelt down by his spouse to assist.

The nurse, meanwhile, was aghast. “He’s insane! I should call security. Have him thrown out of here or sent to the psych unit for observation.”

“Please don’t do anything drastic,” the former colonel pled. “Help me get him back into bed and I promise he won’t hurt you. I’m his alpha— I’ll make sure of it.”

She seemed hesitant, but begrudgingly complied when she saw Jim make no further advances to harm her.

After situating him, the nurse locked eyes with Moriarty. They were wide and sorrowful, reminiscent of a frightened animal.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jane reassured. “Take deep breaths, in and out. It should ease your anxiety a bit.”

“He practices exercises like that at home a lot,” Sebastian remarked.

The woman smiled warmly at her patient. “You’ve cut out caffeine _and_ you’ve worked on breathing techniques? That’s wonderful. You’re ahead of the curve, sir.”

“I’m sorry,” Jim somberly spoke. A choked sob soon followed as he cupped the swell of his stomach. “I’m a fucking idiot for what I just did and I’m afraid I hurt the babies.”

“They’re probably fine,” she stated. “It wasn’t much of a fall.”

Her words were cold comfort to the frantic omega. “Check them!” he tearfully demanded. “Check them, _please._ ”

“Okay, calm down. If it makes you feel better, we can do a scan.” The nurse paused, an idea coming to mind. “How would you like a 3D ultrasound?”

“3D?” Moriarty and his mate looked at each other. This was something they’d discussed but never actually done. Perhaps they ought to seize the opportunity now.

“What do you think, Magpie?”        

“Let’s do it.”

Jane smiled at the couple. “I’ll bring in the equipment. Hold on.”

A few minutes passed and the nurse returned with the ultrasound machine in tow. They proceeded as normal, applying gel to Jim’s abdomen and placing the transducer on the exposed area. The image that came on screen was very different from the usual, though.

“Oh, wow.” Sebastian was taken aback by the picture clarity. This wasn’t merely blurry shadows and murky outlines— you could discern actual features.

The consulting criminal gazed at the monitor the way one might when viewing a piece of art. He was really and truly _seeing_ his children, finally able to make out the shapes of their tiny noses and mouths, their sweet little eyelids, and their stubby— but beautiful— fingers. One was even sucking its thumb. 

“Tiger, this is incredible.” Jim reached out to grasp Seb’s hand, his smile bright enough to light up the room. “Look at them. They’re perfect,” he marveled.

Moran grinned, too. Not only because of the babies, but also because Moriarty’s blood pressure had relaxed. Somehow, Essie and Eddie always seemed to have a calming effect on him.   

The nurse turned up the volume on the device so that the twins’ heartbeats could be better heard. They sounded good, pumping at a steady rate.

“I hope this allays your worry,” Jane spoke. “Your babies are doing fine.”

Indeed, the ultrasound did wonders for Jim’s peace of mind. For a brief moment, he could forget about all the awful, demoralizing events that had occurred of late. Everything bad faded away, supplanted by the unconditional love and absolute joy he felt for his children. It was sublime.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	47. Expect the Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian face some unsettling surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter features vulgar/explicit language. Reader discretion is advised. 
> 
> ************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

A few days had passed since Jim and Sebastian went back to work. They doubled down on their efforts to discover the traitor amongst them, conducting strenuous independent research. So far, nothing really stuck out as a red flag. It was a bit disconcerting, because if the vandalism and spying couldn’t be traced to a recent hire, then it meant they’d have to consider the awful possibility that an established team member might be responsible for those acts.

The sniper desperately wanted to interrogate Colin. He was almost positive that the man had some connection to what happened, though he couldn’t be sure to what extent. A torture session or two might compel the bastard to talk, but Seb knew he’d never be allowed near him after the debacle of their last meeting. The police were furious about it, and even Jim’s contact on the force wouldn’t be enough to get him in for another go-around.

“Sebbbbby,” the mastermind sang out, pulling Moran from his thoughts. “Is breakfast ready?”

“It will be soon, love. Why don’t you sit down and read the paper while you wait? It’s on the table.”

Jim entered the kitchen at a gingerly pace. He wasn’t using mobility aids anymore, relying instead on his own coordination.

“That smells divine,” he said, taking a seat.

“Hopefully it will taste good, too.” This morning’s meal was a real treat: steak, eggs, and hash browns. 

Seb was contentedly cooking when he heard a loud gasp from his mate. Turning around quickly, he asked, “What’s the matter?”

“Have you seen today’s headline?”

“No, I didn’t bother to check it when I brought the paper in,” he admitted.

“Take a look.” Jim held up _The Daily Telegraph_ so that he could read the front page.

_Murder Trial for Slain American Decorator Delayed as Defense Argues to Dismiss All Charges._

The assassin was stunned by the news, dropping his spatula with a clatter. He hastily retrieved the utensil and closed in on Jim, reading the article over his shoulder.

He could hardly believe what was being reported. Apparently, because Sherlock and John were credited as having discovered Lisa’s body before the police did, Colin’s lawyer was arguing that it was an unlawful search and suggested her remains may have been planted on the scene. The magistrate was said to be considering a dismissal of charges, pending further review of the evidence.

“This is outrageous!” Seb snarled. How could the authorities entertain letting him go? The notion was flabbergasting.   

“Tiger, if he goes free, you know he’ll come after us.”

“No, Jim. Never. I won’t let him.”

“You said that before and he still kidnapped me.”

Sebastian blanched at Moriarty’s words. The truth hurt. “I’m sorry, kitten. I should’ve protected you better.” His head hung low as he spoke, ashamed to look Jim in the eye.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” the consulting criminal insisted. “I know you did everything you could. I’m just worried for our children. I can’t risk the lives of these babies. They mean the world to me.”  

Suddenly, smoke began pluming from the stove.

“Shit!” the sniper exclaimed, rushing to pull a charred pan of potatoes off the burner and setting it in the sink.

“So much for Colonel Moran’s heavenly hash browns.”

“Sorry, darling. I can make more if you’d like.”

“It’s okay, I could stand to cut back on the carbs anyway.”

“Hush. You’re handsome as ever.”

Moran began plating the non-burnt food, making sure to serve his spouse first. By the time he sat down to join Jim, the smaller man had already dug in.

“I do apologize for my lack of manners. Essie and Eddie demanded I start in on the steak. If I don’t abide their wishes, they’ll be kicking me in the ribs all morning.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Is that so?”

“Oh, yes. It is,” he confirmed. “Yesterday, I got stuck on a conference call and had to take a late lunch. The babies proceeded to kickbox me from the inside out for a solid hour. They’re an unforgiving pair.”

“Our little hellions,” Seb teased.

“I’d expect nothing less.”

The Tiger and his Magpie enjoyed the rest of their breakfast together. No more talk of Colin was had— both realized it was futile to stress over something that may not even happen. The authorities had yet to make a decision, and until then, they refused to live in fear of “what ifs.”

*********

Jim was bored. Totally, utterly, and unrelentingly bored.

It was a slow day without any meetings or calls on the schedule. He checked in with his husband, who told him things were fine at headquarters. The atmosphere was awkward due to the video that had circulated, but beyond that, it was uneventful. Nothing new there.

Moriarty needed something to do. An activity to focus on. Ordinarily, baking would fill that void. Now, however, being nearly 6 ½ months pregnant, he could no longer withstand a task which required him to be up and down at regular intervals. His back ached, his feet hurt, and he became winded quite easily. Clearly, he was better suited for more sedentary endeavors.  

An idea had been rattling around the mastermind’s brain. Ages ago, he’d made a point of trying out different hobbies. One of those pastimes was knitting. He didn’t stick with it at the time, but lately the activity held increasing appeal. It was something he could do that necessitated little physical movement while also providing a creative outlet.       

The holidays weren’t too far off. There were plenty of things he could craft for the occasion. He imagined knitting a Christmas sweater for Seb and blankets for the babies. All tiger-striped, of course.

And why stop there? The more Jim thought about it, the more items he wanted to make. Caps, scarves, cloaks— the sky was the limit. Perhaps he’d even attempt to knit dolls for the twins. Oh, what an exciting prospect!

But he would need yarn, and patterns, and probably a whole lot of other things he didn’t currently possess. That was easy enough to fix, though. A trip to the fabrics and crafts shop should suffice.

“What do you think, darlings?” the genius spoke, placing a hand to his stomach. He felt a tiny patter, which he chose to interpret as a sign of agreement.

“We’d best get a move on,” he advised his unborn children. “Daddy’s going to channel all his energy into walking around the store.”

Jim grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys and headed for the door. He was a man on a mission. ‘Operation Knitwear’ would soon commence.

*********

Crowds were surprisingly sparse at _The Sewing Sophisticate._ Moriarty was grateful for that much. He was able to pace himself as he wheeled a cart throughout the store, browsing goods to his heart’s content without hordes of people getting in the way.

He’d already picked up orange and black yarn for the tiger print and was trying to decide on other colors as well. The display presented a rainbow of possibilities.

_Rainbow,_ Jim thought with a smirk. _Yes, that’s it!_ He would buy one of each shade to create a beautiful rainbow patterned design. Babies were supposed to like vibrant colors, right? He was positive he’d read that somewhere.

BZZZ. BZZZ.

The mastermind’s phone buzzed. Hoping it might be Sebastian, he broke from browsing to check his mobile device.  

 

_Unknown Sender_

_I wanna ride you all night, you hot little whore._

“What?!” Moriarty exclaimed upon reading the vulgar message. Before he had a chance to ask the obscene texter who he was, more correspondences started flooding in from other unidentified persons.

_How many cocks can you take at a time?_

_I’ll fuck you ‘til you cry._

_Hottest video ever. Make more._

_Wish I was the lucky bastard who knocked you up._

Jim was absolutely horrified. What was going on here? One of the texts mentioned a ‘video.’ This had to be related to his and Seb’s wholly unauthorized sex tape. But mortifying as it was, that’d only circulated across the office and to select associates. So why was he suddenly receiving a barrage of lewd, anonymous messages about it?

He scrolled to find the comment that had expressly referenced a video, intent to reply.

 

_JM_

_What video? And how did you get this number?_

_Unknown Sender_

_Vid @ XXXomegasex. Number was posted on the page. Said to text for more action._

“Oh God,” Moriarty whispered, realizing what this meant. Someone had taken the illicit footage of him and his husband and put it on the internet, along with personal information and an ‘invitation’ to contact him.

He could feel the palpitations coming on. He needed to get out of there, and fast, before his monitor went off.

The Irishman abandoned his cart and rushed outside. He got into his car, but was so worked up, he didn’t trust himself to drive. Instead, he simply pounded on the steering wheel as tears ran unbidden down his face. So many emotions swirled in a frenzy, threatening to overtake him.

Jim pulled his phone back out, trying hard to ignore the slew of filthy text messages that continued to pour in.

 

_JM_

_Need you, Sebby. I’m parked in front of The Sewing Sophisticate. Please come._

 

Once his mate got there, they’d figure out their next move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	48. Love & Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian have a serious talk. Later, Jim goes to his first pregnancy support meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“I’ll fucking kill them,” Sebastian growled. “All of them.”

The sniper had just finished scrolling through the deluge of obscene messages his husband received. It was sickening. Some of the things these anonymous texters said they wanted to do to him were downright depraved. He was legitimately worried for Jim’s safety.

“Have at it, honey. I won’t stop you,” the mastermind remarked. “But at the moment, I think it’s more important that we figure out who posted the video with my phone number attached.”

Seb understood the urgency. Only a select group of people were privy to Moriarty’s contact information. If the person who uploaded the video knew that kind of detail, it certainly narrowed the suspect list.

“How do you want to proceed?”

“For starters, I’m taking the site down. Not just our video, but the whole bloody thing. Those bastards will have to find another pregnant omega porn page to wank off to.”

“Fine by me,” Moran agreed. As far as he was concerned, _no one_ should be looking at Jim like that. It enraged him to think of random strangers viewing his mate as a piece of meat.

“After that, I’m going to check my incoming call log. Print out the names of everyone who’s phoned me for the past year. Then we’ll concentrate on any newly hired employees who turn up there. Go through their computers and look for suspicious activity,” he declared. “I can’t imagine anyone would be so stupid as to upload the footage directly from headquarters, but it’s worth reviewing just in case.”

“Sounds like a plan. When shall we begin?”

“Immediately. I’ll go home and get to work hacking the website. Once I find a backdoor inside, I should be able to bring it down without too much trouble. If all goes smoothly, I’ll have it done in time to make my meeting tonight.”

“Meeting? I thought your schedule was clear for the rest of the day?”

“Businesswise, yes. But this evening I’m going to attend that pregnancy group I told you about.”

Sebastian let out a low-pitched snarl. “No. You shouldn’t be going anywhere alone.”

“Darling, I know your education wasn’t quite on par with mine, but surely you understand the definition of the word ‘group.’ Generally speaking, it refers to a collective, not the singular.”

“I’m well aware of what a group is,” Seb snapped. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t want you traipsing around the city without me. It isn’t safe.”

“While I appreciate the sentiment, dear, I think I can manage this on my own. I’ll be among other pregnant omegas. I doubt that in their condition, they’ll pose much of a threat.”

“Anything could happen, Jim. Especially with the sick shit people have been messaging you about.” He paused, terrible images racing through his head thanks to those obscene texts. “You’ve already been kidnapped once when I wasn’t there to protect you. I won’t allow it again, or worse…”

The consulting criminal stared at his distressed partner, reaching over to take his hand. “Sebby, I get why you’re worried. I really do. But I refuse to forgo my freedom on account of fear,” he asserted. “ _We’re_ better than that. London’s most dangerous men send people running— not the other way around. We don’t hide or compromise. We hold our heads high.”

Moran could see where Jim was coming from, but the situation still didn’t sit well with him. His alpha instincts were flying off the handle, and it was only through sheer force of will that he hadn’t done something crazy.

In the old days, it wasn’t unheard of for an alpha to lock his expectant omega away at home until it was time for delivery. The world had progressed significantly since then, but every once in a while, Seb wondered if that wouldn’t make things a whole lot easier. If Jim remained in their home, he’d certainly be able to protect him better.

“What about the babies, Magpie? You said you’d never risk harm coming to them. But if someone hurt you, it’d hurt them, too.”

The Irishman frowned, not wanting to imagine injury befalling Essie and Eddie. After gazing at their sweet, chubby faces during the 3D ultrasound, he felt even more connected to them than before, if that was possible.

“Tiger, I’d give my life for our little ones.”

“You shouldn’t have to, is what I’m saying. Let me keep you safe and there will be no worries. None.”

Moriarty sighed, squeezing the sniper’s hand. “Don’t tempt me.” As fiercely independent as he was, some small part of him would always want to succumb to his omega nature, particularly now, in his hormonally-driven state. It’d be so easy to melt into his alpha’s arms and permit himself to be whisked away.

“I love you, kitten.”

The look on Sebastian’s face was so tender and sincere, that Jim’s first reaction was to kiss him. Their mouths came together and their fingers interlaced, lips parting as tongues met in a gentle, but fervent, union.

Moran was breathless when they broke their embrace. “Your kisses are a revelation. I couldn’t bear to live without them.”

“You’re in luck,” the mastermind said. “I’ve saved up a lifetime’s worth just for you.”

“Oh, Jimmy,” he whispered while staring into the pools of Jim’s big brown eyes. “Please allow me to guard you in some way. Bid me permission to drive you to the meeting and I’ll wait in the car until it’s done. It won’t be so bad— I’ll bring a book to keep myself busy.”

“Seb…”

“I know I’m being possessive right now. I admit it. But I’ve got damn good reasons for wanting to protect you,” the blonde insisted. “You’re _mine,_ and so are they,” he affirmed, resting his free hand on Jim’s stomach.

A thrill rushed through Moriarty at his husband’s declaration. Truthfully, sometimes it turned him on when Sebastian acted like this; when he tapped into the raw, unrestrained machismo that bubbled beneath the surface of every alpha. It was beguiling.     

“If it means that much to you, okay. You can give me a lift to the meeting,” the genius consented. “It’s being held at the community center on Ives Street.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. You won’t regret this, I swear.”

“For your sake, I’d better not.”

Jim glanced at the dial of his watch, surprised by how much time had passed since he left the house. As much as he wanted to revel in Moran’s virility, he knew he needed to get moving on the website takedown.     

“I’ll see you tonight, love. Thanks for making it out here so quickly.”

Seb shrugged. “You call, I come. I always will.”

The consulting criminal smiled softly. “My loyal soldier, dedicated from day one. There should be a special medal of honor awarded for that,” he teased.

“There is.” Sebastian tugged at the chain he wore around his neck, pulling out the portion that was hidden under his shirt. Dog tags and a wedding band hung from the tether. “This ring is my medal. I cherish it every day.”

Moriarty’s breathing hitched as he struggled to maintain control of his emotions. “Stop it, Tiger. You’re going to make me cry.”

“I can’t help it, hon, it’s true.”

“Be that as it may, I’ve got to stay composed. There’s work to be done.”

The fair-haired assassin nodded. “Catch you on the flip side, Magpie.”

As soon as Moran was gone, Jim went back inside _The Sewing Sophisticate_ and retrieved his previously abandoned cart. Now more than ever, he required a means of relaxation and escape. Hopefully, knitting would be just what the doctor ordered.

*********

Jim worked diligently through the afternoon, hacking into the website that hosted his and Seb’s illegally recorded sex tape. As anticipated, the page wasn’t too difficult to take down once he found a crack in its coding. With step one achieved, he’d continue on to the next phase tomorrow when he accessed his backlog of calls received. For tonight, though, he had other plans.

“I’m not certain how long the meeting will run,” the mastermind told his partner as they stood in front of the community center entrance.

“That’s fine,” Seb assured. “Whenever you’re ready to go, I’ll be here.”

At that, Jim gave his Tiger a peck on the cheek and ventured into the building. He’d never been there before, but had memorized a map of the place prior to arrival. He found the designated room with relative ease. Just in case there was any confusion, a sign posted on the door read: _Male Omega Pregnancy Support (MOPS)._

“Bloody hell,” he muttered to himself. ‘MOPS?’ Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

There was no time to opt out now. He was rapidly being approached by a somewhat older-looking fellow.

“Hello,” the man greeted. “You must be new?”

“I am. It’s my first time attending a meeting like this.”

“Glad you decided to come. My name’s Trevor and I’m the group coordinator.”

“Really? Do tell.”

“Well, I’m a family therapist and in my line of work, I noticed how few support systems there were for expectant male omegas. Being one myself, and having children of my own, I thought someone ought to help bring our kind together— facilitate a community so that none of us would feel alone.”

Jim scanned the room, seeing chairs set up in a circle and a table of refreshments located off to the side. For a brief moment, he flashed back to the time one of his foster mothers brought him along to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. He hoped this group would produce a better quality of attendees than that had.

“So how does this work?” the genius asked.

“Basically, we discuss whatever’s on our mind, good or bad— anything goes. You can say as much or as little as you want. There’s no pressure,” he noted. “We do encourage new members to introduce themselves, but you don’t have to go into too much detail if you aren’t comfortable with that. Sometimes it takes people a while to open up, and that’s okay. This is a safe space.”

“I’m willing to give it a try.”

Trevor smiled warmly. “Wonderful. Take a seat and we’ll get started soon. Feel free to sample the snacks and juice,” he invited. “Oh, we’ll also have a bathroom break about midway through, so no worries on that front.”

“Sounds good,” Moriarty spoke, and he meant it. Even though he’d be fraternizing with ostensibly ordinary men, they would share a bond that ran beyond the surface. Maybe, just maybe, he could find kinship amid common ground. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	49. Encounters of a Different Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is at his first pregnancy support meeting while Sebastian waits in the car. Both have unique experiences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

All eyes were on James Moriarty. As the newest member of London’s Male Omega Pregnancy Support group (MOPS), he was expected to introduce himself. It was an intimate gathering of about ten individuals, including the organizer he’d met upon arrival. Despite the small size, he was anxious.

_What do I tell them? Should I give a fake name?_ Again, he thought back to his foster mother who’d dragged him along to an AA meeting once. He recalled that they didn’t use surnames there. If this group functioned the same way, he’d probably be fine to use his real first name— it was innocuous enough.

_Oh, shit. People are staring,_ he realized. _It’s because you’re just sitting there like a bloody idiot. Say something!_

“Hiiiiii,” the consulting criminal finally spoke. “I’m Jim and this is my first pregnancy. I’m pleased to report that my husband and I are having twins.” He paused as the group clapped in response to the announcement. “Thank you. It’s going to be a girl and a boy. We plan to call them Estella and Edward— Essie and Eddie for short.”

_What else should I mention?_

“I work as a businessman and my alpha is one of my employees. I guess you could call it a good old-fashioned office romance,” he lightheartedly remarked. “We were together for quite a while before deciding to get married, and now, after three years of wedded bliss, we’re expanding our family.”

More clapping ensued and Jim had to willfully refrain from rolling his eyes. _Talk about an easy crowd. Ordinary people are adorable._

“Is there anything else you’d like to add?” Trevor, the MOPS coordinator, asked.

“Actually, yes, there is,” Moriarty replied. “As may be obvious, I’m slightly older than many of the faces I see here tonight. That’s probably because, for the longest time, I wanted nothing to do with children,” he confessed. “I couldn’t picture myself as someone’s parent, let alone going through the rigors of pregnancy. But then something came along and changed all that, or rather, _someone._ My husband, the most wonderful man in the world, entered into the equation.” Jim was afraid the audience might laugh when he said that, but they didn’t. In fact, he appeared to have their rapt attention.

“I got to thinking about what a fabulous father he’d make and how lucky a child would be to have him in their life. He possesses some of the finest qualities one could ever hope to find in a partner. He’s loyal, thoughtful, loving…the list goes on. I’d be here for days if I described all his attributes. Suffice to say, he’s the kind of person the world needs more of,” Jim proclaimed. “I knew that by combining his personality traits with my intellect, we’d be creating an incredible child.”

After he was done speaking, Trevor chimed in again. “Thank you for sharing, Jim. Having multiples can present a challenge, but it can also be extremely rewarding. My sister has a set of twin girls and there’s always been a strong bond between them. They even finish each other’s sentences.”

“Really? That’s fascinating.” The Irishman often wondered how his babies would interact once they were born. Would they instinctively recognize that they’d been womb mates? Would they feel a sense of familiarity in each other’s presence? He couldn’t wait to find out.

“Unless there are any questions or comments for Jim, I’m going to open the floor for general discussion,” the organizer declared. No one objected, and the group proceeded on.

_So far, so good,_ the genius thought. His initial nervousness was dispelled by the warm welcome he’d received, and it felt nice just being in the same room as other omegas in his condition. With any luck, joining this consortium would help ease the anxiety that plagued him at every turn. _Maybe this really can be a safe space._ Dare he dream?

*********

ZZZ. ZZZ. ZZZ.

Sebastian Moran had a change of plans. He originally said he’d read a book while waiting in the car during Jim’s meeting. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and to his credit, he _had_ brought reading materials with him. When the moment came, however, the prospect of taking a nap overruled all previous intentions. Now the sniper lay prone in the backseat of his midnight blue Mercedes, softly snoring as he slept.   

BAM.

Seb stirred slightly at the sound of a loud bang.

BAM. BAM.

He grumbled, hearing the noise again.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

His eyes shot open. _What the hell?_ Something was definitely pounding on the roof of the car.

Moran sat up and groggily peered out the window to see what was going on. This particular section of the street was rather poorly lit, making it difficult to discern much of anything.

BAM.

There was another bang, followed by a vibration that felt like something had bounced off the rear of the vehicle.       

“Never a moment’s peace,” he muttered, knowing he would have to investigate the racket.  

With one hand firmly gripped on the gun in his pocket, Sebastian stepped outside. He took a cursory glance at his surroundings but noted nothing unusual.

_Maybe there was an animal atop the car and it ran off?_ He checked the exterior and found no obvious scratches or dents. _Hmm._

As the assassin stood there, an eerie feeling came over him. It was the unnerving sense of being watched. He hadn’t felt that way since the early days of Colin’s stalking campaign. But now the psycho was locked up, so it couldn’t be him.

_Am I just paranoid?_ It was possible. These days he was very much on edge, reeling from the shock of having been secretly recorded. His guard was on high alert and would likely remain so for some time.

He waited a moment before returning to his vehicle. Erring on the side of caution, Seb decided to stay awake in case any more oddities occurred.

“I guess a bit of reading is on the agenda after all,” he remarked, pulling a book from the glovebox.

Several minutes went by uninterrupted and the former colonel began to relax. He still wondered what had produced the banging on the roof, though. A large cat or a raccoon, perhaps? The lack of identifiable marks made it hard to tell.

POP.

There was an abrupt shattering sound as the area surrounding the car plunged into darkness.

Now Sebastian was officially spooked. He set his book aside and ventured out once more, intent on getting to the bottom of the situation.

He walked a few feet and discovered that the lone working streetlamp had been shot out. Shards of broken glass sparkled under the veil of moonlight, but a gunman was nowhere to be seen.

_Someone’s here. I know it._ This wasn’t mere paranoia. His instincts as a hunter were broadcasting clear as a bell.

The sniper attuned his senses to focus on the presence lurking amid the shadows. _Over there, in the alley._  

He turned, stealthily heading towards the source. A rustling could be heard as the mysterious individual made their escape. Seb trailed close behind, using sound as his guide.

They were running. Running, running, running through a series of darkened alleyways and side streets. Moran was a hairsbreadth from catching the elusive figure when suddenly a trashcan was knocked over, directly impeding his path. He stumbled, and in the brief time it took to right himself, the prowler was gone. Sebastian looked in every direction but saw no one.

“Fuck!” he shouted. _So close! So bloody close, it isn’t fair._ He was truly frustrated.

His thoughts immediately went to Jim. He needed to protect his omega. Get him the hell out of there. The consulting criminal hadn’t sent a message to indicate the meeting was done, but Seb refused to wait. This was a potentially dangerous situation and he would _not_ permit his spouse to linger there a minute longer.

*********

James Moriarty was actually having a good time amongst the company of ordinary people. Who would’ve believed it possible? A year ago, he certainly wouldn’t have.

The genius steadily interacted with the group during open floor discussions, offering his own opinions and experiences as the conversation flowed from one topic to another. Now that the midway break had commenced, he was socializing further.  

Jim sat at a table with two other men. Jack was a thirty-year-old paralegal who was six months pregnant with his second child, while Ian was a nineteen-year-old store clerk who was four months along with his first baby. Truthfully, Moriarty decided to sit with them in particular because he’d noticed that they both had Irish accents like he did. It was a bit of a novelty, meeting other male omegas from the Emerald Isle.

“This cobbler is terrific,” Jack proclaimed, digging into the dessert one of the members had brought.

“It’s not bad,” Jim stated, “but I could make better.”

“Fancy yourself a baker, huh?”

“Honestly, yeah, I do. And a damn good one, at that.”

“You should bring something in with you next meeting. Nobody here would complain about extra dessert being served,” he said with a wink.

“Maybe I will.”

“Wish I could try it,” Ian piped up, staring longingly at the luscious apple cobbler. “No sense attempting to, though— I can’t keep anything down.”

“Ugh, sorry to hear it,” the mastermind commiserated. “I know how that can be. I suffered hellish morning sickness for the first few months.”

“Morning sickness,” the young man groused. “Whoever came up with that name was a bloody liar. It should be called ‘24-hour-morning-noon-and-night sickness.’”

Jim chuckled. “Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue the same way, does it?”

“I suppose not,” he agreed.

“If they called it what it really was, no one would ever want to get pregnant,” Jack quipped between forkfuls of dessert.

Ian snorted. “Who’s to say all of us ‘wanted’ to become pregnant in the first place?”

Moriarty cocked his head, surprised by the younger man’s remark. “You didn’t want to have a baby?” The genius had assumed that everyone there was pregnant by choice.

“I’m nineteen, single, and work a shit job. What do you think?”

“Why are you keeping it, then?”

“I ask myself the same question every day,” he admitted. “I guess it’s because this kid’s all I have. I’ve got no family and no alpha, but at least with the baby I won’t go through life alone.”

_Alone._ Jim knew the feeling well. As an orphan, he didn’t have anyone either when he was Ian’s age. In that sense, he sympathized.

Before the consulting criminal could say anything else, an uninvited guest entered the room: Sebastian.

The sniper caught sight of his spouse and marched up to him. “Jimmy,” he began, “we’ve got to go.”

Moriarty gaped at Seb in bewilderment. “Excuse me? What are you doing here?”

“I had a strange encounter outside. I’ll tell you about it on the way home.”

“If you think I’m leaving right now, you’re sorely mistaken. We’re only halfway through the meeting.”

“I’m sorry, dear, but it’s too risky to stay. I insist that we get out of here.”

Jim turned to his tablemates. “Jack, Ian, I need to have a word with my husband. He seems to be in the throes of temporary insanity and I feel obligated to assess his mental duress. This shouldn’t take long.”

London’s most dangerous man stood up and walked just outside the doorway of the meeting room. Seb followed.

“I’m having a delightful time, Sebastian. I refuse to make an unceremonious exit at the snap of your fingers. I’m not a dog— I don’t step and fetch on command.”

“Hear me out, okay? Some weird shit went down tonight.”

“I’m listening.”

The former colonel relayed everything that had happened, from the banging on the car to the streetlamp being shot out, and finally the chase that led him down a series of darkened alleys. When he was finished with his tale, Jim stared at him blankly.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. I think it’s reason enough to get the hell out of here.”

“You expect me to leave simply because you had a run-in with a hoodlum?” he asked incredulously. “Before jumping to conclusions, I suggest you stop and consider the fact that we’re at a community center in a rather dodgy part of the city. And did you even get a good look at this person? It’s possible you were being menaced by some bored, disgruntled teenager.”

“I couldn’t see much in the dark, but I’m not taking any chances,” Seb declared. “We’re going home _now_.”

“If you want to go, fine. I won’t stand in your way. But I won’t be accompanying you.”

Moran growled. “Jim, it’s my duty to keep you safe.”

“Well then, as your boss, allow me to give you the night off.” He turned to head back inside the room, but was abruptly halted when the assassin grabbed him by the arm.

“Hey!” Jim yelled. “Bugger off!”

Some of the group members watched on in alarm. The MOPS coordinator was among them.

“Oh, great,” Moriarty muttered as Trevor approached.

“Jim, is this man bothering you?” he inquired with concern.

“ _This man?_ ” the blonde huffed. “I’m his mate, thank you very much. And we’re having a private conversation here.”

“No,” the Irishman spat. “We’re done chatting. Now if you don’t mind, I have a meeting to return to.”

“James!” he exclaimed in frustration. “Be serious. This isn’t a game. I’m worried for your welfare and want to take you home.”

Trevor peered at Moran. “Maybe it isn’t my place to interject, but as a male omega advocate, I feel compelled to point out that this is a _safe_ space. Barging in and demanding he leave is unacceptable behavior. It threatens the security of everyone here and undermines the purpose of the group. I’m going to firmly, but politely, request that you leave.” Next, he turned his attention to Moriarty. “Jim, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Never let anyone force you into doing something you don’t feel comfortable with.”

Sebastian sighed heavily. “For fuck’s sake, this is ridiculous. Trust me when I say that there’s no forcing him to do anything. He does what he pleases regardless of the effect it may have on others. Just look up ‘selfish git’ in the dictionary and his photo will be right there.”

Genuine hurt flashed in the mastermind’s eyes. “To think I told the group what a wonderful partner you are. Shame on me. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Jimmy,” he spoke, his tone softening. “Come on. Don’t be like this. I love you and want to assure your well-being. Is that so bad?”

Jim was quiet for a moment, struggling to control his emotions. “You’re treating me as if I were a piece of property. Some fragile object to be locked away in a cupboard that only you have the key to,” he accused.

The sniper shook his head. “No, I’m not trying to lock you up. I just…I’m scared of what could happen to you and our cubs,” he confessed. “You’re my greatest joy. My angel and my devil rolled into one. I’d be nothing without you.”

“Tiger…” Moriarty’s eyes grew misty as he gazed at his alpha. He was truly conflicted, a jumble of hormones and mood swings battling for dominance.

Seb had an idea. “It’s obvious this group is important to you,” he acknowledged. “So how about you finish the rest of your meeting while I sit out in the foyer? If you won’t leave here, then at least I could remain inside the building in case something happens.”

“I’m amenable to those terms,” the consulting criminal agreed.

“Good,” he said, grateful to have reached some semblance of a resolution.

The fair-haired assassin wrapped his arms around his husband, holding him close. These days, Moran wished he could stay permanently affixed to the smaller man, acting as a human shield to guard against the ills of the world.

It seemed Jim felt the same— for all his complaints, he clung to Sebastian as if his life depended on it. “I love you, Sebby,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

The Tiger and his Magpie were jarred by the sound of sudden applause. Turning their heads, they realized that most of the MOPS group was looking on, clapping enthusiastically. It seemed they’d been watching and listening to the confrontation as it played out in the doorway.

Sebastian was beet red with embarrassment. “Oh, God.”

“That was beautiful,” one man decreed.

“So heartfelt,” raved another.

Other attendees buzzed about them as well, some even wiping tears from their eyes. Meanwhile, the sniper just stood there, utterly mortified.   

“I’ll handle this,” Moriarty murmured in his spouse’s ear.

“Nothing to see here, fellas. He’s all mine,” the genius quipped to the crowd. Then he glanced at Seb. “Go on, darling,” he urged in a hushed tone. “Now’s your chance to make a break for it.”

Moran nodded. “Meet you in the foyer when you’re done.”

Sebastian made tracks so fast, you’d think he was the Road Runner in an old cartoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	50. An Afternoon at the Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Developments arise at headquarters. Sebastian must take care of business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Much was afoot at headquarters.

After a comparison of Jim’s incoming call log with the names of his most recently hired employees, a few people stood out. From there, those persons’ computer histories were accessed. Surprise, surprise, one of them was found to have visited the pornographic website that hosted Moriarty and Moran’s illegally recorded video. Even more damning was when this individual’s desk was searched and an entire box of black markers were discovered in a drawer— the same variety used to commit the vandalism at Seb’s party. 

The evidence was all there, and at first glance it would appear to be an open and shut case. But that was the problem. It was _too_ easy. Too neat and clean. The pieces had come together in an almost effortless fashion. Quite frankly, it seemed staged and neither Jim nor Seb was buying it.

“I really think Steve is the fall guy here,” Moran said, referring to the fellow who was assuredly set up. He worked in the office’s finance division.

“I agree. Something about this doesn’t ring true,” the mastermind observed. “I suspect the real culprit has framed him in the hopes of diverting our attention elsewhere. I also believe they have some connection to Colin, though I can’t prove it yet.”

Seb nodded. “What should our next move be?”

“We play along. Fire Steve for appearance’s sake, but continue to look for the actual traitor behind closed doors. If he or she thinks we’ve fallen for their scheme, they may let their guard down…get sloppy.”

“And then we’d be able to nail them,” the sniper remarked. “Swoop in for the kill.”

Jim smiled wickedly. “Yes, darling. That’s the general idea.”

“I love the way you think, kitten.”

“I’ve always considered my intellect to be among my greatest attributes.”

Sebastian scooted close to his mate, a stray hand snaking its way between the genius’s legs. “I can think of a few more qualities I enjoy just as much,” he huskily intoned.

The Irishman hummed at his lover’s touch, savoring the contrast of rough hands rubbing him through the soft fabric of his pants. “Oh, Tiger, why do you tease me so?’

“No tease, Magpie. I like to finish what I start.”

“But you can’t right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m counting on _you_ to give Steve the pink slip and make sure he’s thrown out on his arse. You need seem irate. Really sell the performance so that our rogue employee believes it.”

The former colonel removed his hand from Jim’s nethers and shot the man a look of incredulity. “You want _me_ to fire the guy?”    

“I dooooo,” he affirmed. “And not just fire him— turn it into a big hubbub.”

“Jimmy, in all the time you’ve known me, have I ever been the type to instigate workplace ‘hubbubs?’ Why would I suddenly engage in one now?”

Moriarty paused, his face scrunching up as he considered the question. “Hmm. Maybe you’re right. If you behave too unusually, it might not come across as authentic,” he mused. “But let me ask you something, dear.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“Hypothetically, if Steve truly was responsible for what happened, how would you react?”

“I’d fuck him up, no doubt about it.”

“Ah-ha!” the consulting criminal exclaimed. “So you _would_ make a scene. See? Hubbub.”

“Actually, I’d probably wait until he left the building and then I’d strike,” Sebastian stated. “No witnesses that way.”

“Hrm. Well, whatever you do, be convincing.”

“Understood, though I’m still not clear as to why you want me to deliver the news. Office politics have never been my strong suit.”

“Tiger, trust me, I’d do it myself if I could. You know what an excellent actor I am.”

“Yes, I’m quite aware, _Richard,_ ” he said with a wink.

Jim rolled his eyes. “Ha-ha, very funny. As I was saying, I’d fire him myself, but I’m supposed to avoid stressful situations.”

“The one time you decide to take a doctor’s advice without complaint, and it’s so that you have a valid excuse to pass your dirty work on to me. Wonderful,” Seb lamented.

“My, oh, my— what an astute observation,” he derisively replied. “And people claim you aren’t clever. If only they could see you now.”

The assassin snorted. “Someone’s feeling sassy today.”

“Today? Honey, I’m sass personified 24/7.”

“I stand corrected.”

“Good. Now get a move on. I expect you to report every detail to me.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Seb leaned over to give his omega a quick kiss on the cheek. “Take care, love,” were his last words before leaving.

Moriarty peeked out the window to make sure the other man was gone. “Finally,” he muttered, seeing that the coast was clear.

He hurried to the storage closet and pulled out the knitting he’d hidden in a box. Eyeballing his handiwork, Jim made a mental note of what more had to be done. He was halfway through with Seb’s sweater. Once it was finished, he could move on to crafting baby items and would no longer need to conceal what he was working on.

The genius grinned, imagining the look of surprise on his mate’s face when he opened his gift Christmas morning. It would be a sight to relish. He could hardly wait.

*********

It was done. Steve from finance had been fired. Seb did not, however, turn the event into a spectacle as Jim desired. Drumming up a commotion might suit the mastermind, but it wasn’t Moran’s style at all. Instead, he’d handled the situation with firmness and professionalism, simply informing the man that his services were being terminated and he was to vacate the premises immediately. Steve wasn’t thrilled about it, but he complied without issue.   

Now Seb sat in his office, reviewing paperwork that’d been left on his desk. It was mostly final reports of how various assignments had gone and write-ups outlining potential future projects. He was in the midst of reading a memo when he heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” the sniper invited.

Gemma, one of their resident acquisitions experts, entered the room.

“What can I do for you?” he asked. This was the first an employee had actively sought him out since the sex tape incident. Everyone seemed to make themselves scarce after that debacle.  

“I was hoping I might be able to discuss something with you, Mr. Moran.”

“Certainly. Take a seat and we’ll talk.”

She obliged, sitting opposite him. “A few of us here at headquarters were thinking about throwing Mr. Moriarty a baby shower. What would you say to the idea?”

The former colonel fell silent, contemplating the prospect. _A baby shower._ He was vaguely familiar with the concept. It was an American tradition that’d picked up steam in Great Britain in recent years. From what he gathered, these types of festivities typically involved cake, presents, and games— almost like a kid’s party, except in this case, the child was unborn.  

“Gemma, that’s a fine suggestion. I think Jim would enjoy it.”

She smiled. “I’m pleased you approve. I always wanted a baby shower, but the plans never came together. I thought maybe I could get the itch out of my system by throwing one for someone else.”

“Splendid. You iron out the details and then run them past me.”

She nodded. “I will. Thank you, sir.” The woman paused for a moment. “How is Mr. Moriarty doing? Everybody saw the paramedics take him away earlier this week and we weren’t sure what happened.”

“He had a medical issue to contend with, but is doing fine now.”

“Whew, that’s a relief,” she said. “You know how gossip spreads like wildfire around here. People were saying all kinds of crazy things.”

Seb frowned. “Yes, folks in this office are a bit too chatty for my liking. I miss the good old days when people minded their own goddamn business.”

The woman laughed. “I’m going to take that as a hint to get back to work,” she quipped, standing up. “Again, thank you for your time, sir. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

At that, Gemma exited.

“A baby shower,” Seb repeated to himself. He opened up the browser on his computer and typed the term into a search engine. “Time to learn all there is on the subject.”

 

 

After an hour’s worth of Googling, Sebastian decided to venture home. He locked up his office and headed to the elevator. As he waited for the lift, a statuesque blonde approached.

“Mr. Moran, I’m happy to have caught you before you left.”

“Uh, hello,” the assassin awkwardly greeted. The woman looked familiar, but he could not remember her name.   

“I know that expression. You don’t recall who I am, do you?”

“I’m sorry, but no, I don’t,” Seb admitted. “I’ve seen you around, though. Here at headquarters and at my birthday party.”

“Glad I wasn’t entirely forgettable,” she teased. “I’m Annie, an assistant secretary. I wanted to inquire about Mr. Moriarty.”

“He seems to be a hot topic today.”

“No surprise, considering the last time he was here, he left via an ambulance.”

“Fair point,” the sniper acknowledged. “He’s doing well, by the way. In case that’s what you were wondering.”

“Excellent,” she said, sounding relieved. “I was actually curious as to how he liked the pregnancy group.”

Seb peered quizzically at the woman, trying to figure out how she knew of the MOPS meeting Jim had attended. And then it occurred to him—

“You’re the one who told him about the group in the first place.”

“Guilty as charged,” Annie confirmed. “I thought he might find it useful.”

“I appreciate you mentioning it to him, thanks.”

“It’s the least I could do.” She briefly hesitated, formulating her thoughts. “Sir, some of us were toying with the idea of throwing Mr. Moriarty a baby shower. After what happened on your birthday, we feel like he ought to have a positive party experience.”

“Gemma already brought it up to me. I’m keen on the notion,” he stated.

“Fantastic. It’s going to be so much fun planning this out.”

“Better you than me.” The only kind of events he was good at organizing were assassinations. If he had to coordinate the shower, it would almost certainly end in disaster.

At long last, the elevator arrived. Moran stepped inside, eager to return to Jim.

“It was nice talking to you,” the woman spoke. “Please, give Mr. Moriarty my regards.”

“Will do,” he assured, just as the lift doors closed.

 _That was relatively painless._ Nobody had acted too suspicious at Steve’s dismissal, and the only real interfacing he had to do was with two subordinates who were looking to plan a party. All things considered, it could’ve gone worse.                  

“Now,” he said to himself, “to get back home.” Maybe he’d stop off somewhere for takeout. Jim would probably be hungry— he often was these days. Just last night he’d mentioned having a craving for spaghetti bolognese with garlic bread.

 _That settles it._ There was an Italian restaurant not far from where they lived. Seb would drop by soon to pick up a proper meal. _Including an order of chocolate cannoli,_ he mused, because Jim absolutely loved dessert. Nothing made the fair-haired alpha more content than pleasing his Magpie.

BZZZ. BZZZ. 

Sebastian’s phone buzzed. Checking the device, he saw he had a new text message.

_JM_

_Are you done yet? What’s taking so long?_

 

_SM_

_Relax, kitten. Patience is a virtue._

 

_JM_

_Fuck virtue. The babies are famished. You MUST bring them food. It’s imperative._

 

Moran laughed. He could have some fun with this.

 

_SM_

_How does tofu burgers and kale salad sound?_

 

_JM_

_If you dare serve me tofu, I’ll burn the heart out of you._

 

_SM_

_*You’re* my heart, darling. Burn me and you scorch yourself as well._

 

_JM_

_Touché._

_But seriously, Seb, BRING FOOD._

 

_SM_

_Okay, okay. Was already planning to get takeout on my way home. I think you’ll like what I have in mind._

 

_JM_

_Thank you, Tiger._

 

_SM_

_My pleasure, love._

 

Sebastian stepped out of the elevator with a sense of purpose. He had a feast to order.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	51. Memories Stir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old wounds are stirred up for Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

DING.

The timer on the oven chimed.

“Tiger, could you get that? I don’t want my brownies to burn.”

“Sure thing, hon.”

Sebastian tended to the chocolatey treats, sitting the square pan on the counter to cool. “These look amazing.”

“I was hoping they’d turn out well. I promised the group I’d bring something sinfully delicious tonight.” At this point, Jim wasn’t doing much baking anymore, but he did make the occasional exception.

“In that case, you needn’t bother with the brownies. Just showing up as yourself would qualify.”

Moriarty grinned impishly at the remark. “Keep talking like that and I’ll insist you come over here and kiss me.”

Not missing a beat, the sniper walked from the kitchen to the living room, joining his mate on the couch. He nestled close to him, seizing the mastermind’s lips in a sizzling display of affection.

Jim dropped the knitting he was working on and ran a free hand through Seb’s hair. He relished the softness of his husband’s strawberry blonde locks.

Moran grunted hoarsely as he deepened their kiss. He noted that his omega not only smelled sweet, but also tasted honeyed as well. It was an incredibly enticing combination.

“God, I love you, Jim.”

“Prove it.”

Seb tilted his head, unsure of what the other man meant. “Huh?”

“Prove that you love me,” he reiterated. “Rub my feet.” Moriarty eyed his Tiger temptingly, almost daring him to do it.

Never one to back down from a challenge, the assassin gently maneuvered Jim into position. He was laid across the couch lengthwise with his feet in Moran’s lap.

“No shoes or socks to take off,” he observed.

“That’s because I can’t fit into them.”

“Hmm.” Sebastian took a moment to examine the foot he was massaging and realized that it appeared swollen. Both did, actually.

“Kitten, is this normal?”

“I’ve no idea. They’ve been swelling off and on for a few weeks. Today’s the worst so far.”

“Maybe we should tell Dr. Swenson.”

“Ugh. Frankly, I’m sick of doctors right now. I’ve seen enough to last a lifetime,” he declared. “I just want to relax and enjoy the rest of this pregnancy. My paternity leave is coming up shortly and I intend to make the most of it.”

 _Paternity leave._ Seb almost forgot. It seemed so long ago when Jim first mentioned it. Before his health issues kicked in and his kidnapping occurred; before the vandalism and spying. It felt like an eon had passed since then.

“When do you go on leave, darling?”

“Soon,” he said. “Just another two weeks or so.”

“Pardon me if I sound ill-informed, but how will your schedule be changing? You already conduct a fair bit of business from home.”

“Well, I’ll stop coming into headquarters entirely until the babies are born,” he noted, referencing the fact that he currently ventured into the office one day a week. “I’ll also limit my conference calls— cut down on them by about half. I trust you’ll pick up the slack for me, Seb. You are my second-in-command.”

He nodded, knowing he’d have a lot of work ahead of him. Between running the business in Jim’s absence and taking care of the man as well, he was going to be extremely busy. Somehow, though, he didn’t mind at all. It felt right to be aiding his expectant omega in such a way.

Moriarty shifted slightly, retrieving his dropped knitting. This latest creation featured a colorful rainbow design.

“What are you making, Magpie?” he asked, continuing to rub his mate’s tender tootsies.

“I’m working on a cap and mittens for the twins. There will be a set for each of them.”

“Oh, that’s adorable.” Moran smiled broadly at the mental image.

“I thought so.” He paused, adding, “I know we’ll be past the worst part of winter by the time they’re born, but February and March can be awfully chilly in England. I want to make sure they stay warm.”

Sebastian gazed at his spouse with all the love in the world reflected in his eyes. Witnessing Jim’s transformation over the last six months was nothing short of astonishing. No one would ever expect the most dangerous man in London to be nurturing and parental, but here they were. It was beautiful.

“Will you be waiting in the foyer tonight?” the genius inquired.

“I figured I would. I feel like I’m protecting you better when we’re in the same building.”

“Makes sense.” He was silent for a moment, contemplating something. “Seb?”

“Yeah?”

“It won’t be long until I enter my third trimester. Before you know it, our little ones will be here.”

“That’s right. Exciting, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’m eager to meet them,” he agreed. “But…” the mastermind hesitated, a sudden nervousness coming over him.

“But what, dear?” He could tell his mate was tensing up.

“But what if they don’t love me?”

Jim’s statement made Sebastian’s heart ache. “Of course they’ll love you, kitten. You’ll be their whole world. No one will be more important to them than you.”

“Do you really think so?” Moriarty desperately wanted Seb’s words to be true, but some nagging remnant of self-doubt persisted.

“I know it for a fact. The instant those babies are put into your arms, they’re going to love you forever.”

The Irishman smiled softly. “And I’ll love them. Hell, I already do.”

Jim gasped, placing a hand to his stomach.

“Big kick,” he panted. “It’s safe to say they’re listening.”

Moran chuckled. “See? No worries, darling.”

For the moment, it appeared Moriarty had let go of his fear. Sebastian truly hoped his positivity would remain.

*********

Jim was a sight to be seen at the MOPS gathering. With his feet swollen, the only thing he could comfortably fit into was a pair of slippers. They were a very nice leather-bound variety, well-insulated and featuring cushioned arch support. But still, it was a bit of a blow to Moriarty’s pride, having to wear them outside the house.

He’d also arrived bearing brownies and a tote bag of knitting. The baked goods were supposed to be for the mid-meeting break, but several people sampled them early. In a room full of pregnant omegas, one couldn’t expect too much dietary restraint. As for the knitting, Jim was on a roll and didn’t want to stop for anything. The other members seemed to understand, and some even complimented his handiwork.

“So what else is on your minds?” Trevor, the group coordinator, asked. It was final call before they took a recess.

“I’ve got something to discuss,” a ginger-haired man volunteered.

“Okay, Scott. Tell us about it.”

“Well,” he began, “it has to do with my family. A few years ago, my parents basically disowned me. It was hard at first, but I managed, and I’ve been doing fine ever since. Cut to today. My sister messages me out of the blue, saying that our parents have started making holiday plans and they want to invite me to the proceedings. I haven’t replied to her because I don’t know what to do.”

“Are they aware you’re pregnant?” another member, Jack, wondered aloud.

“Yep. Apparently, that was the catalyst,” Scott answered. “They heard through the grapevine that I was going to have a baby, and they want to reconnect so they can play a role in their grandson’s life. The problem is, I’m not sure I want my child to know them. Not after the way they treated me.”

That caught Jim’s attention. “What did they do to you?” he questioned while stitching tiny rainbow legwarmers.

“They disapproved when I dropped out of university to live with a bloke in Birmingham— cut me off financially and told me not to come back until I’d regained my sensibility.”

“That’s it?” the consulting criminal quipped. “Your parents didn’t beat you, or neglect you, or curse you out from here to kingdom come?” He shook his head disdainfully. “You got off easy.”

“Hey,” Scott objected, “just because I didn’t have some maudlin foster care upbringing doesn’t mean I didn’t go through rough times.”

 _Maudlin foster care upbringing._ Oh, that was the wrong thing to say to Jim.

Moriarty tossed his knitting to the floor and stared daggers at the redhead. “You should thank your lucky stars you weren’t put into the foster system,” he angrily spat. “It’s vicious and cruel, and the people you meet will do nothing but hurt you for their own amusement. We should all be so fortunate as to have living parents who are willing to reach out to us.”

“Now wait a minute,” Trevor interrupted, “let’s not get hasty. The purpose of this group is to provide kindness and support. Everyone has a right to their own thoughts and feelings. We don’t diminish anyone’s problems here.”

“I think Jim’s right,” Ian, the youngest MOPS participant, said. “I was in foster care for most of my life and it was hell. In the beginning, I used to pray that my parents would come back for me. Later, after I found out they were dead, I prayed that someone— anyone— would love me. By the end, I stopped praying altogether because I realized there was no point in it. God didn’t fucking care,” he somberly asserted. “So yeah, I wish I had family to reconcile with.”

The mastermind was surprised someone had jumped to his defense so readily. He was further taken aback to learn that he and Ian shared a similar background.

“So you think I’m being unreasonable?” Scott asked.       

“That depends,” Jack chimed in. “Would your folks have been as upset if you’d decided to shack up with a woman rather than a man?”

“They likely would’ve been mad either way,” he admitted. “What bothered them most was that I’d received a full scholarship to the University of Cambridge, but quit school to pursue a relationship.”

“You threw away a free ride to Cambridge? Fuck, I’d have disowned you, too.”

“Guys, we shouldn’t rush to any snap judgments,” the organizer warned. “This falling out was significant to Scott and it’s not our place to criticize how it happened.”

“Thank you, Trevor,” the ginger gentleman spoke. “I’m just looking for a little clarity.”

“What do you have to lose by reconciling with them?” Jack posited. “There will be two more people in your son’s life who’ll love him. And personally speaking, some of my fondest childhood memories involved my grandparents. It’d be a shame to deny one’s baby the opportunity to forge lasting, positive experiences like that.”

Jim fell silent, ruminating on what Jack said. He never had grandparents, though as a boy, he often wished he did. Especially at holidays. He wished he had any relatives at all then.

The Irishman could still recall a particularly painful incident from his youth, when a supposedly ‘fun’ grade school assignment entailed writing a letter to Santa and sharing it with the class. In his correspondence with jolly old St. Nick, he’d asked for a family to adopt him. One student, Carl Powers, had reacted in an absolutely merciless fashion, making fun of him in front of everyone and laughing uproariously at his expense. Ultimately, Moriarty got revenge, but it couldn’t erase the awful memory.   

*KICK*KICK*

The genius felt his children shift inside him, probably sensing his agitation. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to focus on the group’s conversation. It was no use. His mind was spiraling, jumping from one misbegotten thought to another.

 _Essie and Eddie won’t have grandparents, either,_ an inner voice taunted.

_No, but they’ll have me and Seb, and their uncle and cousin._

_Still no grandparents, though. Maybe that’s for the best— your mother would be ashamed of you._

_Never! My mum loved me. She used to call me her ‘little prince.’_

_She might’ve loved the boy you were, but she’d hate the man you became._

_Her love was unconditional. She would’ve adored me no matter what, and she would’ve adored my babies, too._

_But she’ll never know them, will she? And they’ll never know her. Because she’s DEAD._

_Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!_

Jim opened his eyes. He was sitting down, but felt dizzy from all the noise in his head.

Quickly glancing around, he realized the group had gone on break without him. When did that happen? He’d zoned out completely, becoming lost in his own mind.

The consulting criminal was shaken up and needed to regroup. Maybe even go home altogether. He was just so fucking frazzled.

_Must find Seb._

Jim grabbed his bag of knitting and rushed out of the room.

_Seb. Seb. Seb._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	52. Love, in Many Forms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian must deal with the emotional fallout from Moriarty’s dredged up memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Jim’s blood pressure monitor rang out as he raced down the hall in frenzied pursuit of his husband. Thanks to the alarm, Sebastian heard him before he came into view.

_That sounds like—_

“Jimmy!”

The sniper stood up, eyes widening at the sight of his omega making a mad dash towards him. _What the hell?_

Moriarty threw his arms around the larger man. “Sebby,” he panted heavily.

Moran returned the embrace, holding him close while stroking his back. “Easy does it, hon. It’s okay. Try to steady your breathing.”

A few minutes went by as Jim focused on calming down. It was hard, but the last thing he wanted was another trip to the hospital. Eventually, the beeping subsided.

“What’s got you upset, love?”

“The group…we were having a discussion and it riled me up,” he shakily confessed.

“How so?”

“It made me think of _things._ Childhood, family…mum.”

“It’s all right now. You’re safe with me.” _My poor Magpie._ No wonder the conversation set Jim off. Those were all topics he generally avoided, and Seb knew better than to bring them up.

“I wish she was alive, Tiger. Why did she have to leave me? Why couldn’t she stay?” The mastermind was fighting back tears as he spoke.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” In truth, Sebastian had no clue how his mate’s mother died. The circumstances of her passing were a mystery to him and would likely remain so unless Jim decided to open up about it.

“I’ll never leave our babies. _Never._ ”

“I won’t, either. Not if I can help it.”

The couple was pressed so snugly together, Seb could actually register movement against his skin as the twins kicked inside Jim. It was a strange sensation, to be sure.

“Hello?” a male voice suddenly called out. “Jim?”

Moriarty and Moran let go of each other, both turning to see who beckoned.

“Ian?” the consulting criminal said in surprise. It was the young man from his group.

“You left in a hurry. I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I…I’m fine.” Jim quickly collected himself, putting on a brave face. “Just needed to check on my fella. Can’t be too careful with him. The handsome ones require extra supervision.”

Ian laughed lightly. “Yeah, I guess so. Wouldn’t really know.” He paused, feeling socially awkward. “So…are you coming back to the meeting? Break’s almost over.”

That was a good question. When Moriarty rushed from the room, it was with the intention of finding Seb and going home. But now he wondered if that was the right response. The most dangerous man in London didn’t run away. He might occasionally step out to clear his head, but he always returned, ready to take on whatever challenge awaited him next.

“I’ll be there soon. Go on and I’ll catch up.”

He nodded. “See you, then.” The young man began to walk away, but stopped to say, “By the way, everyone loves the brownies. I wouldn’t mind having the recipe if you’re willing to share it.”

“Sure, it’s fairly simple. I’ll give it to you tonight.”

“Cool, thanks.” At that, he ventured back to the MOPS gathering.

When the man could no longer be seen, Sebastian turned to his spouse and grinned. “I do believe Mr. Sex strikes again,” he teased, “and in record time. Only the second meeting and you’ve already got an admirer.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Please, it’s not like that. Ian’s a boy who’s had a shitty lot in life. Been through the foster care system and doesn’t have anybody to support him. I can relate— it was rough for me at his age, too.”

“Still seems a bit sweet on you, dear. Why else would he come to look for you?”

“Camaraderie, I imagine. When you’re completely alone— like he is and I was— you try to remedy the problem in whatever way you can.”

“If he’s as bad off as that, maybe you could mentor him.”

The genius contemplated his mate’s suggestion. It held potential.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” he mused. “Ian was complaining about his job as a store clerk recently. Perhaps I could find him something to do at headquarters.”

“Really? You trust him enough to hire him?” After the issues they’d dealt with regarding disloyal staff, Seb was surprised he’d be willing to employ someone willy-nilly. 

“Actually, I do. Crazy as it sounds, I see a bit of myself in him,” Moriarty admitted. “Besides, he could certainly use the pay increase— babies aren’t cheap. And who knows, maybe he could act as our eyes and ears around the office. Someone to report back to us about suspicious goings-on.”

“Hmm.” It might be advantageous to have a mole amid headquarters. But…was it wise of Jim to reveal his true identity to someone from the MOPS group? To disclose that he was _the_ James Moriarty, criminal extraordinaire? In the end, it was the mastermind’s decision to make.  

“I’ll mention it to him. Gauge his interest and learn if he’s got any special skills we could hone.”

“I suppose,” Sebastian pensively replied.  

“It’ll be good,” he assured. “I probably ought to head back now, though.”

The sniper leaned in and stole a kiss from his beloved Magpie. “Until later, my darling.”

“See you then.”

And so Moriarty returned to the meeting, while Moran, his ever-patient assassin, waited.  

*********

“Sebby?”

“Yes?”

“How busy are you tomorrow?”

“There are a few things to be done at headquarters. Why?” The former colonel’s inquiry was followed by a snuggle as the two men laid together in the comfort of their luxurious four-poster bed.

“I have a special appointment with Dr. Swenson tomorrow afternoon and I was wondering if you’d be able to come along,” Jim explained. “I know I swore I’d seen enough doctors to last a lifetime, but this can’t be helped— it was scheduled ages ago.”

 _Special appointment?_ This sounded serious.

“What’s this in regards to, hon?”

“We’re going to discuss my birthing plan. I’d like you to be there so we’re all on the same page.”

“Of course, kitten. That’s important stuff to cover.”

The Irishman smiled. “It sure is. I’m nervous and excited at the same time.”

“Me, too,” Seb agreed, though he imagined the notion took on a whole different meaning for Jim. He was, after all, the one who’d be physically bringing new life into the world.

“Mmm…love you, Tiger,” the genius sleepily stated, spooning back against Moran. He felt so safe like this. So warm and protected. It was little wonder, then, that he drifted off to dreamland with ease.

*********

_It was a gorgeous day amid a field of green. There were no clouds or rain in sight, and a gentle breeze billowed through the air, carrying the scent of lilies._

_Jim instantly recognized the location. This was a patch of land in the countryside near Donnelly’s farm. His mum used to buy eggs there, fresh from the coop. While she was occupied with that, he often played in the meadow, flying kites, chasing after butterflies, and cartwheeling across the grass._

_Today he’d decided to do something different. He went wandering further than usual and came upon a beautiful bushel of wildflowers. They were purple and pink, with dark speckling. As soon as he saw them, he knew he had to pick some for his mother._

_Like magic, he suddenly held a bouquet in his hand. Even better, he spotted her driving up to where he stood. In a flash, she was in front of him, waiting with open arms. He bounded into her embrace, and she lifted him up, spinning the both of them in a circle as he giggled. When she placed him back on the ground, he proudly presented the flowers he’d gathered._

_“Such a lovely gift from my sweet little prince. Thank you, honey.” She hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head. “I’ve got a surprise for you, too.”_

_His eyes lit up at the news. What could it be? He was bursting with anticipation as she retrieved an item from the trunk of her car._

_“Here you go, darling. I thought you might like this.” She handed him a blue kite with stars and crescent moons printed on the material._

_He was ecstatic, his smile stretching from ear to ear. He wanted to try it out right then and there._

_And so he did. Or rather, *they* did. It was wonderful. He and his mum flew the kite for what must’ve been hours, but it felt like only seconds had gone by._

_As the sun began to fade into dusk, a terrible feeling came over Jim. It was a sense of panic, dread, and déjà vu. Something awful was about to happen, the way it always did, and he could never change it, no matter how hard he tried._

_“Let’s go home, sweetie,” the woman urged. “I’ll take some eggs from the cooler and make us a scramble. How’s that sound? Breakfast for dinner.”_

_“Can we have bacon, too?” he asked hopefully._

_“It wouldn’t be a proper breakfast without bacon, now would it? Come on.”_

_The two settled into the car, and Moira Moriarty made sure her young son was strapped in securely._

_Jim’s distress continued to rise. But why? It’d been a fabulous day. One of the best, in fact. He should be happy, but…there was a sick feeling deep inside. A sorrow. A—_

_BAM._

_They’d barely ridden a half mile when their vehicle was blindsided by a pickup truck. The car was sent careening into an embankment and flipped twice. It was a hit and run— the other driver never bothered to stop. Moira was killed on impact while her small child wailed beside her mangled corpse._

*********

Jim awoke with a scream and his blood pressure monitor was beeping. It scared the hell out of Sebastian.

“What’s wrong?”

The Irishman was confused for a moment. Waking in such a tumultuous state was disorienting, to say the least.

“I…” he trailed off, letting out a sob as the dream flooded back to him.

“Was it a nightmare?”

Moriarty didn’t answer. Instead, he sat up and ripped the blaring monitor off his arm, hurling it across the room. The action did nothing to relieve his grief. He cried uncontrollably.

“Shh, it’s okay, kitten,” the sniper consoled, pulling him into his arms. “Whatever it is, I’ve got you.”

The mastermind wordlessly wept as Moran held him tight. Eventually, he found his voice. “It was real, Seb.”

“What was, hon?”

“My nightmare. It really happened.”

“If you need to talk about it, I’ll listen.” Sebastian figured his approach was a longshot, but what else could he do to help?

“I was a little boy in the dream,” Jim said. “It was _that_ day…when she…” he struggled to finish the sentence. “It was when my mum died in front of me,” he finally spat. The consulting criminal was utterly distraught, his tears flowing freely.

“Oh, Jimmy.” The fair-haired alpha gently rocked his mate in an attempt to soothe him. _No wonder he barely speaks of his mother,_ Seb lamented. He hadn’t seen the man this anguished in quite some time. 

“We were so happy,” Moriarty choked out between sobs. “And then someone hit her car and it went off the road. They never stopped to see what they’d done. Never cared that they’d killed her.”

“God, I’m sorry, sweetheart. That’s horrific.” What must he have gone through in that moment? It was difficult for an adult to process tragedy like that, let alone a child.

“I loved her so much,” Jim confessed.

“I know you did, honey. I know.” Sebastian just kept rocking his husband as he held him close, praying he’d calm down.

Jim winced, clutching his stomach. “Oww. Tiger, feel this.”

The assassin placed a hand on Moriarty’s abdomen. The babies were kicking furiously.

“I’ve upset them,” he cried. “They were sleeping and I worked them up. I’m an awful omega.” The guilt in his voice was haunting.  

“No. You’re the farthest thing from awful, and the babies will be fine. You said yourself that when they’re moving, it lets you know they’re alive,” Moran reminded. “Think of it that way. Essie and Eddie are trying to communicate that they’re here with you and they love you.”

The genius stared in awe at his sweet, devoted spouse. “Sebby, how do you always know the right thing to say?”

“It’s my gift, remember?” he stated with a smile. “I’m London’s preeminent Magpie whisperer.”

“Yes, you are. I’m damn lucky to have found you.”

“I like to think we found each other.”

“We sure did, darling.”

The couple soon resumed their previous spooning position. Though neither had much success getting back to sleep, they were able to take comfort in each other’s company. The simple act of being close together brought a sense of peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	53. Looking to the Future while Thinking of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian attend a special meeting with the mastermind’s doctor. Later, Seb returns home and is upset when he cannot immediately find Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Jim and Sebastian were both groggy as they sat in the obstetrician’s private office. After Moriarty’s nightmare about his mother, they had a hell of a time getting back to sleep. Even now, the sniper could tell his mate was still upset. The Irishman _hated_ showing vulnerability, and during last night’s incident, he’d been starkly exposed.

Moran wished he could take away his husband’s pain. Make it so that Jim had had a better life— an existence free of the tragedy that haunted him to his core. People were quick to dismiss the man as a monster, but they never stopped to consider the things that put the darkness inside him; never bothered to examine the hideous events which had led a brilliant little boy to become a beast.

Suddenly, the door opened and Dr. Swenson walked in.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” the woman greeted, taking a seat behind her desk. “We have some plans to discuss.” She pulled up Jim’s medical file on her computer and began to review it before turning back to the couple. “As I’m sure you’re aware, male omega births are more limited than most, on account of vaginal delivery not being an option. That said, I’ve performed Caesarean sections on several male patients and all instances were successful.”

Seb was reassured by her claim. He knew from the outset that Jim would need surgery in order to deliver their children. At least with Dr. Swenson at the helm, he’d be in good hands.

“You’ll be awake for the procedure and it really shouldn’t take long to perform. Barring complications, the whole thing will be completed in under an hour’s time.”

Moriarty nodded. “My research told me as much,” he acknowledged. “What I want to be absolutely certain of is that my partner will be allowed to stay with me throughout the process. He’s the father of these babies and I’d like him to be a part of this.”

The physician smiled. “That shouldn’t be a problem. In fact, we encourage alphas to be present at delivery whenever possible. It aids in an omega’s mental and emotional well-being, and also helps establish bonding between father and newborn.”

“Good,” Jim replied. “Now, I’ve read that people generally have to remain in the hospital for a few days following a C-section. Is there any way I’d be able to check out early?”

“Legally, we can’t stop you from doing so, but it’s not recommended. Staying 2-3 days ensures that any immediate post-op issues will be caught and treated accordingly,” she explained.  

“Right.” The consulting criminal sounded displeased, but he understood the reasoning behind it. “What about food? Since I’ll be undergoing a surgical procedure, I assume a fast will be in order.”

“You’re correct. 8 hours is the length of time we ask patients to abstain from food and drink prior to surgery.”

“Bloody hell.”

“My apologies, Mr. Moriarty, but it’s standard policy,” she stated. “Are there any further questions?”

Jim and Seb exchanged a glance, neither appearing to have anything more to say.

“I think that’s it,” he said.

“Wonderful. If you come across any additional concerns, don’t hesitate to shoot me an email or call the office.”

At that, the consultation ended. It was brief but informative, giving the Tiger and his Magpie an idea of how events would unfold during the fateful day of their children’s arrival.

*********

Jim was depressed and Seb was worried.

After their meeting with the obstetrician, Moran suggested they go somewhere for a late lunch, but the genius refused. He claimed he just wanted to crawl into bed for a nap. Sebastian didn’t think much of it at first, returning to headquarters while Jim rested at home. But as the hours wore on, the sniper grew increasingly concerned. When he was away, his Magpie almost always texted him at least once about something or other. Today, though, there was nothing. Not a single message from the man.

Sebastian hoped that when he came home, he’d see Jim and his fears would be assuaged. Oh, what wishful thinking that was. As soon as he pulled up to their residence, he noticed the lights were off. It was a curious thing, indeed.  

 _Maybe he’s been sleeping all this time,_ Seb thought as he entered the ominously dark house. 

Moran made his presence known, clicking on lamps to make sure the place was well-illuminated. “Magpie,” he called out, “I’m back.”

He received no response and couldn’t find Jim in any of the main areas of the house.

_He’s got to be in bed. He went to take a nap and has been there ever since._

“Okay, sleeping beauty, it’s time to wake up,” Seb announced, stepping into their quarters and turning on the light.

This room was empty, too. The covers were askew, signifying Jim had been there, but the sheets were cool to the touch.

 _He must’ve gotten up a while ago. So where is he now?_ Seb briefly considered phoning him, but noticed that his mobile was left on the nightstand.

The former colonel checked every room in search of his husband. He was close to full-blown panic when he decided to investigate the back yard— the lone location he’d not yet explored.

 _Hallelujah._ To his great relief, Sebastian spotted Jim sitting on a lawn chair, staring down at something in his hands. He became slightly disturbed as he approached the Irishman and saw his state of dishevelment. It was a frigid night, and there Moriarty sat, clad in only a thin t-shirt, pajama bottoms, and his watch. He didn’t have shoes or slippers on— his feet were totally bare.

Moran took off the leather jacket he wore and wrapped it around his mate. It was then that Jim looked up, recognizing Seb was there.

“Tiger,” he softly spoke. “Home already?”

“Already? Jim, it’s 10 o’clock at night. I was actually late getting back.”

The consulting criminal paused, looking at his surroundings. “I suppose you’re right. The sun’s gone down. When did that happen?”

Seb was trying to remain calm, but found it difficult to do under the circumstance. This was strange behavior, even for Jim.

The assassin took a seat next to his troubled omega. “Sunset was a few hours ago, love. Have you been out here all this time?”

“I guess so,” he blankly replied. The man looked and sounded truly haggard.

“What is it you’ve got in your hand?” Seb asked, referring to the small card he clutched.

“You mean this?” Moriarty showed his spouse what he was holding.

Sebastian was shocked. It wasn’t a card at all. It was a photograph.

“Jimmy, is this—”

“It’s me and my mum, yes.”

The picture showed a beautiful raven-haired woman holding up a small boy so that he could touch the star on top of a Christmas tree. The child appeared thoroughly joyful.

“You were cute, hon. A fan of the stars even back then.” The sniper recalled Jim’s fondness for astronomy. Seems his fascination with the cosmos started early on.  

“I barely remember when it was taken,” he said. “I think I was about four or five at the time.”

“Didn’t know you kept childhood photos,” Moran gently remarked.

“I’ve got a few. Don’t pull them out often, though.”

“What made you decide to look at them today?”

Jim sighed wearily. “You really want to know?”

“Of course. If something is important to you, then it’s important to me. Please, go on.”

“Well, when I went to take a nap, I had another nightmare.”

“About her again? Your mum?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” The mastermind’s voice wavered as he fought to stay composed. “It’s always the same dream. We’re together, and then…”

 _…she gets killed,_ Seb thought, mentally finishing the other man’s sentence.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. You didn’t smash into her car and flee the scene. Didn’t leave an eight-year-old boy orphaned, screaming beside the broken body of his mother.” He took an exasperated breath and stared Sebastian straight in the eye. “We were in the countryside when it happened. Donnelly’s farm was the only establishment for miles, so I walked there looking for help. A pity nobody answered the door,” he recounted. “I wandered for hours in the dark, terrified, hoping to find someone— anyone— who might be able to assist. I walked nearly ten miles before a garda spotted me on the side of the road. Turned out he couldn’t help much, either,” Jim lamented. “She died on impact and I was too stupid to realize it. I’d gone off thinking she could actually be revived. Bloody foolish child, I was.”

“Oh, Magpie.” The sniper leaned over to hug his partner. “You weren’t foolish. You were a loving son.”

Moriarty reached his limit and could contain himself no longer. Hot tears ran down his face as he melted into Sebastian’s arms. He’d kept the memory of that terrible day locked away for so very long. It haunted him his entire life, existing as a frenzied darkness that ate at him, devouring from the inside out.

“It’s okay, Jimmy. I’ve got you,” Moran assured.

“I loved her,” he sputtered between sobs. “She was all I had…and then she was gone, and I was completely alone.”

“You’re not alone anymore, kitten. You have me and the babies now. We adore you.”

Seb’s words made Jim cry harder. “Our sweet babies,” he whispered. “Essie and Eddie will never know what an amazing woman their grandmother was.”

“You can tell them. Show them pictures and pass on stories. Keep her memory alive.”

The genius pulled out of his mate’s embrace to look him in the eye again. “Secondhand experiences just aren’t the same. I’ll never be able to relay the intangible qualities that make a person who they are. There were so many wonderful things about her, Tiger. The way she used to smell like lavender and grass from all the time spent working in her garden. The way her hair felt— it was even softer than yours, darling, because she liked to wash it in rainwater. She’d collect it in a bowl whenever there was a storm, and then bring it inside the house to use. Said it was purer than what came out of the pipes.”

Jim paused, his mind abuzz with visceral recollections of the woman. “Don’t even get me started on the sound of her voice,” he continued. “When I got upset— really and truly out of sorts— she would sing to me. So gently, so soothingly. It was often the only thing that settled me down.”

“She must’ve been incredible, Jimmy. Had to be, if she created you.”

The consulting criminal gazed at Moran, his expression overwrought with emotion. “My precious Sebby. I wish she could’ve met you.”

Sebastian smiled warmly. “Think she would’ve liked me?” 

“She’d have been crazy about you, dear. Always was an excellent judge of character.”

The two men fell silent for a moment as they noticed that flurries had begun to billow from the sky. It was the first snow of the season.

“Magpie, I do believe we ought to head inside.”

Jim glanced down at his cold, bare feet and then looked back at Seb. “You may be right,” he admitted. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I came out here like this. I could go for a long, hot soak in the tub.” He hesitated, adding, “Might need some help scrubbing my back, Tiger.”

“Lucky for you, I’m exceptionally limber and can reach every part,” the blonde teased with a wink.

“Oh, I’m counting on your flexibility. Just wait and see.”   

The duo returned to the warmth of their home, intent on taking a luxurious bath. Jim needed it, and really, Seb did, too. It was the ideal remedy to a demanding day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interesting fact: A 'garda' is a police officer in Ireland. I didn't know that until researching the topic.


	54. Indecision & Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim’s potential employee is wary. Later, London’s most dangerous duo must deal with the unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“God, these are delicious,” Jack said as he plowed through his third lemon chiffon cupcake. “Are you sure you aren’t secretly a pastry chef in disguise?”

Jim laughed lightly. “No, baking is just a hobby.”

“Should be your career,” he enthused.

“I agree,” Scott interjected. “You’ve got a real knack for it.”

The consulting criminal couldn’t help but smile at the praise being heaped upon him. He took pride in his dessert endeavors and was pleased to receive recognition for the effort he put into them. Baking was becoming progressively harder to do, thanks to the perpetual backaches and swollen feet he was afflicted by these days. It pleased him to know that his suffering wasn’t in vain.      

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim noticed Ian return from the bathroom. Now was the perfect time to ask him if he’d made a decision regarding his job offer. At their last MOPS meeting, he’d extended an invitation of employment to the young man, but did not reveal that he was _the_ James Moriarty. He decided he would only disclose his true identity if Ian consented to work for him.

The genius got up, approaching his potential employee. “This seat taken?” he joked, seeing that Ian was sitting alone.

“Be my guest.”

Jim hunkered down, sporting a hopeful grin. “Soooo, have you given any thought to my proposal?”  

“I have.”

“And? Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“I’m still not sure what I want to do,” he shyly confessed. “I mean, I hate my current job, but I feel a certain obligation to it. The old lady who owns the shop has always treated me kindly, which is more than I can say for most people I’ve met in life. I’d hate to leave her in a lurch.”

Moriarty snorted. “Ian, you have a baby on the way. You need to start thinking with your head instead of your heart. Prioritize. An office worker’s salary could buy a whole lot more nappies and car seats than a store clerk’s could.”

The young man flushed with embarrassment. “Actually, I can’t afford a car. I use public transit.”

“See what I mean? You’re going to need a better mode of transportation when your child arrives. If you came to work for me, it wouldn’t be an issue. I pay my staff handsomely.”

“I…I just don’t know. Let me think about it a little longer, please.”

 _Oh, the folly of youth._ Jim was growing frustrated with Ian’s wishy-washy attitude. He wanted a mole at headquarters and this unassuming chap would be perfect for the position. Besides, what was there to think about? The decision was a no-brainer. Work for a billionaire and prosper or work for some tired old crone and be paid peanuts? It wasn’t even a question as far as he was concerned.

“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, Jim. It really is a fantastic opportunity.”

“So take it, then.”

“I can’t yet. Switching jobs is a big deal. I need more time to consider it.”

“I won’t claim to understand your apprehension, but fine. The offer stands, if and when you choose to come on board.”

“Thanks.” He fell silent for a moment, his social anxiety getting the best of him. “Those cupcakes look good,” he awkwardly remarked in an attempt to change the subject.

“They taste even better. You should try them before Jack inhales the whole batch.”

“Smashing idea. I think I will.” Ian rose from his chair in search of dessert.

“Bring me one, too. Might as well enjoy the fruits of my labor.”

“You got it.”

Jim sighed as he watched the younger man head towards the refreshment table. His wanting to hire the teen wasn’t simply because he desired an office mole. No, a part of him genuinely wished to help Ian improve his quality of life.   

 _You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink,_ the mastermind lamented. Ultimately, the ball was in Ian’s court as to what happened next. He hoped he’d make the right choice.

*********

 “How was the meeting?” Sebastian asked as he drove Jim home.

“Not bad. The group keeps raving about the treats I bring in, but I’m not sure how much longer I can continue baking. I just can’t stand or walk the way I used to,” he confessed. “When I made this last batch of cupcakes, I got so desperate, I actually considered using the wheelchair.”

 _Oh, wow._ This was serious. His Magpie hated that thing. If he’d thought about using it again, he must’ve truly been in dire straits.  

“Sweetheart, I think you ought to take it easy. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I try not to, but it’s ingrained into me. I give my all no matter what I’m doing.”

“I know, Jimmy. Perhaps next, you could ‘give your all’ to relaxation,” he teased.

“With paternity leave coming soon, that might be arranged.” He paused, contemplating something. “Tiger, I’ve been mulling over an idea for a little while.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to take an excursion to Ireland. To my hometown of Adare.”

“Is it wise to travel right now? You just said you’re having trouble standing up and walking around at home. Imagine what it would be like having to navigate streets.”

“Well, I thought you’d aid in my mobility, Seb. Was I mistaken in that assumption?” The consulting criminal’s voice grew sharp as he questioned his mate.

“No, of course not. I’ll help you with whatever’s necessary. I just get worried, is all. What’s put you in the mood to visit your old stomping grounds?”

“Honestly? It’s my mum. I can’t get her out of my head. I don’t know if that’s because I’m about to have children of my own soon, or if it’s because this year marks the 30th anniversary of her passing. Maybe it’s a combination of both,” he mused. “In any case, I feel like I have to go to her. I have to visit her grave.”

“Okay, kitten. If that’s what you really want to do, I’ll accompany you. We’re in this together.”

The Tiger and his Magpie exchanged a small smile. ‘Together’ was a word that held great meaning to them both. Knowing they could count on each other provided solace in times of turmoil and woe. It was devotion in its purest form.    

 

 

When Jim and Seb neared their home, they saw a commotion in the distance. There were flashing lights and various authorities up ahead.

“Wonder what happened?” the sniper pondered aloud.

“I don’t know, but it looks like it’s awfully close to our neighborhood.” As they proceeded further, he changed his assessment. “Scratch that, it _is_ our neighborhood.”

“Hmm.” Jim was correct. Something was transpiring right in their midst.

They drove closer, and closer, and closer—

“Fuck!” the sniper exclaimed. “That’s _our_ house!”

Moriarty’s eyes widened and his mouth hung agape at the sight of emergency vehicles and police surrounding their residence. There were no flames to be seen, but the presence of a firetruck suggested that something must’ve been extinguished.  

Sebastian pulled over and rushed onto the scene, flagging down an officer.

“Constable, I live here. Can you please tell me what’s going on?” Though he tried to remain calm, a frantic urgency crept into his voice.

“A report came in about an hour ago saying that someone had shot out the lights in front of this house and then threw a Molotov cocktail through a first floor window.”

The assassin’s heart sunk. “Oh no.”

“Luckily, your security guard called it in quickly and the fire didn’t have long to burn. It singed your living room, but the rest of the property was unharmed.”

“Thank God.”

Jim made his way to Seb and the bobby. He was wheezing when he reached them.

“Honey, I’m sorry I didn’t help you out of the car. I had to find out what happened.”

“What’s *pant* the *pant* situation?” he breathed heavily between words.

“Someone busted the outside lights and hurled a makeshift explosive through the window.”

Moriarty’s expression grew panic-stricken. “The *pant* nursery, is it—” 

“It’s intact,” Seb assured. “Apparently, only the front room was affected.”

“That’s correct,” the constable confirmed. “The guard you posted did the right thing and immediately phoned for assistance. Firefighters were able to neutralize the flames before they got out of hand.”

The look on Jim’s face communicated tremendous relief, and his breathing steadied as well. “Bloody hell, that gave me a scare. Is it safe to go inside?”

“I believe the last of the crew are clearing out now, so it’s probably okay to go in.” The cop paused, saying, “Sirs, as the owners of this property, we’d like you to come down to the station and give an official statement as soon as possible.”

“Give a statement?” Moran questioned. “Why?”

“Because what occurred here was a crime.”

“Nobody got killed or was even wounded tonight, right?” Jim asked.

“No, but—”

“We don’t want to press charges,” the Irishman asserted. “Since there were no fatalities or injuries involved, you’re not beholden to pursue the case unless we request it.” 

“I realize that, but—”

“No need to continue, constable. We won’t change our minds.”

The officer stood there, absolutely dumbfounded. “Are you quite certain? Whoever did this may strike again.”

“And if they do, we’ll be sure to give you a holler. Until then, I bid you goodnight.”

At that, Moriarty sauntered toward the house.

Sebastian followed, bearing a smirk on his face and lust in his heart. He loved it when Jim got sassy and commanding.

 

 

The last of the firemen passed by Jim and Seb as the duo entered their home. The officer was right— damages appeared to be minimal. There was a broken window, a singed area of carpet, and some drapes that would need to be replaced. Altogether, nothing too severe.”

“We got damn lucky,” Moriarty declared. “Which guard was on duty tonight?”

“Rocco, I think.”

“He’ll be receiving a bonus this Christmas.”

Seb nodded, surveying the scene. “Hey, Jimmy?”

“Yes?”

“Here’s a thought,” he announced. “How about I call the contractors who worked on the playroom and have them cleanup and repair the damages, while we get out of here for a few days and go on that trip you suggested? Last time, I paid them to work round-the-clock and they were very efficient. I’m sure something similar could be arranged.”

The mastermind considered his mate’s proposition. “Actually, that’s not a terrible idea. I’m game if you are.”

“Wonderful. I’ll ring them now. Best to get things squared away without delay.” 

And so the former colonel did as promised, securing the services of the same crew he’d employed before. Most of them were eager to take the job, grateful to make extra wages as the holiday season neared. With that aspect settled, all Seb had left to do was plan out their travel itinerary and reserve the necessary boarding passage— easy to accomplish, thanks to online booking. For a last-minute trip, it was coming together quite smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	55. Ghosts of the Past (Live on in the Present)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian travel to Ireland so that the consulting criminal can visit his mother’s grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

_Traveling. Fucking traveling._ Sebastian was beginning to hate it.

As planned, the two most dangerous men in London arranged for contractors to come and repair the minor fire damage in their living room, while they themselves headed to Ireland. It seemed like a great idea, until the reality of time and distance came into play.

_I should’ve learned from the trip to France. Should’ve thought harder about it before opening my big, fat mouth._

The pair set out at 8 a.m., taking a train from London to a port in Liverpool. After that, they hopped a ferry voyaging to Dublin. Finally, they rented a car in the Irish capital and took off for Jim’s birthplace, the village of Adare. The nonstop commuting was downright grueling.  

There was a positive aspect to the situation, though. It afforded the sniper ample opportunity to spend time with his husband. They could have intimate conversation and discuss matters of importance without interruption.    

“Jimmy, I think we should talk about what happened last night regarding the fire.”

Moriarty closed the book he was reading and turned his attention to Seb. “I suppose so. It was a disturbing sight to return to.”

“No kidding. I keep seeing it in my mind. Maybe I’m just paranoid, but I feel like whoever was responsible for the attack must’ve known we were out. They had to realize we’d go after them if we were home, so they deliberately struck while the house was empty.”

The consulting criminal contemplated Moran’s theory. It was a plausible deduction. It also held some troubling implications.

“If that’s the case, then we need to stop and think about who would be familiar with our schedule.”

“Someone close.” The sniper paused, mulling over potential suspects. “Security, maybe?”

Jim shook his head. “Couldn’t be. None of the regular security crew was there for the vandalism incident on your birthday, nor were they present when that bloke in finance was set up as a patsy. Assuming this is the work of the same individual, it couldn’t possibly be one of our guards. It’s got to be office personnel,” he declared.

“You’re right, love,” Sebastian said with a sigh. “My mind is so clouded lately. I’m beginning to jump at shadows.”

“I can’t say I blame you. This stalking bullshit has gone on too bloody long.”

“I agree.” Moran fell silent for a moment, before speaking again. “Jim, if we’re operating under the premise that all of these events— the vandalism, the spying, the set up, and now the fire— have been orchestrated by the same person, then I think we should also include the encounter I had outside the community center to the tally of offenses. The phantom I dealt with that night shot out a streetlamp. Seems awfully similar to the M.O. of yesterday’s firebug. They shot several of our outdoor lights.”

“Seb…I believe that’s a sound assessment. It may well be connected, and I’m sorry I doubted you when you first described your experience. For someone as clever as I am, I certainly can be thick at times.”

“I prefer to call it ‘bullheaded,’ but who’s counting?” the assassin teased.

“Hush. I’m trying to apologize.”

“I know, hon. Sometimes I just can’t resist.”

“Cheeky bugger,” Jim proclaimed.

Moran flashed a sharky grin. “You’ll get no denial from me.”

“At least I’m married to an honest man.” The genius was smiling now, too. His Tiger often had that effect on him.

Sebastian glanced at the dashboard GPS. “We’ve almost reached Adare. Any of these surroundings recognizable to you?” 

“Bits and pieces, but it’s been 30 years since I was last here. Not since my mum died,” he admitted. “Sites are bound to be hazy.”

“Makes sense,” the former colonel remarked. “Hey, Jimmy? Could I ask you a weird question?”

“Weird? Ooh, now you’ve got me intrigued. Please, go on.”

“Well, I was wondering…if you were originally from Ireland, how did you end up in England after your mother passed?” 

“Ugh, you got my hopes up. I was expecting something truly bizarre, but that question is booooring. However, I do find you incredibly sexy, so I’ll answer.”

“I appreciate your benevolence, dear. It’s an inspiration to the world.”

“I’ve always thought so,” he deadpanned. “But I digress. Adare is a very small place. Social services decided I’d have a better chance of finding an adoptive family if I was sent to an orphanage in a larger area, specifically, Dublin. As it turned out, my options were slightly broader than that, because my mum had dual citizenship between Ireland and England. So I was given a choice: go to the capital of the country I was already in, or go to London. Well, I wanted to get as far away from where she died as possible, so I told them ‘England’ and didn’t look back.”

“You were bold, even back then. Venturing forth to conquer new lands at age eight.” In all the years he’d known Jim, Seb had never heard the backstory explaining that particular mystery. Now he understood.   

“It was more like running from painful memories— nothing valiant about it. But I do prefer your interpretation of events.”

 _My dear, sweet Magpie. Just coming back here must be hard for him._ The sniper wondered if this was a mistake. Maybe they shouldn’t have made the pilgrimage after all— not while Jim was in such a compromised physical and emotional state. But it was too late to turn around now.

They soon entered the village proper, stopping when they reached their point of destination: _The Emerald Clover Inn._ It was a quaint bed & breakfast located in the heart of Adare.

“Here’s the plan,” Moran announced. “We check in, and before settling into our room, I’ll sweep the place for bugging devices. Don’t enter until I give the all-clear.”

Jim smirked. “Roger that, colonel.”

Seb leaned over, stealing a kiss from his mate before stepping out of the car. “I love it when you talk military to me, kitten.”

“There’s more where that came from. Maybe later we can have a bit of fun,” the mastermind flirtatiously suggested.

“I’ll hold you to it, provided this location is free from surveillance.”

And so the couple headed inside the B&B, hoping for the best.

*********

“Ooh, Tiger, this comforter is so soft, I think I may cocoon in it and never reemerge.”

The handsome assassin laughed. “A tempting prospect.” He sat down beside Jim and paused, looking around. “This really is a lovely room. Very cozy.” _And thankfully, 100% camera-free. No prying eyes._

“Reminds me of where we spent our honeymoon,” the Irishman said. “Do you remember it?”

 _“The Inverness Inn?”_ he asked. “How could I forget? Because of a last-minute business meeting, we had to cancel our reservations in Barbados and trek to the fucking Highlands instead.”

Moriarty affected a pout. “Aww, come on, Sebby. It wasn’t _that_ bad. As I recall, you ended up having a pretty great time, all things considered.”

He hated to admit it, but Jim did speak the truth. Perhaps by some cosmic accident, the consulting criminal began going into heat a mere two days prior to their wedding. It’d taken incredible fortitude not to ravish him on the way down the aisle, but ultimately, Seb persevered. He couldn’t claim the same for the rest of the proceedings, though.

The duo consummated their matrimonial union immediately before, and during, the reception. Then they partook in a repeat performance as they headed to the inn. Finally, upon arriving at the B&B, all bets were off. The Tiger and his Magpie went at it like animals, barely leaving their suite for the entirety of the trip. It was a celebration of glorious carnal bliss.

Jim placed a hand on Moran’s inner thigh. He rubbed the area oh-so-enticingly, the pads of his fingers nimbly massaging against a barrier of denim. “Remember the fun we had? Cuffs and cock rings and all the switching we did that week?” he reminisced. “An omega chaining down an alpha and fucking him senseless— what a scandalous pair we were. Of course, I know you’d rather think of it as ‘making love.’ My darling assassin, ever the romantic.”

Sebastian breathed heavily at the memory of their exploits. Jim always knew how to cut through his tough exterior and make him weak in the knees; make him quiver and quake as if he were possessed by some otherworldly lust that only Moriarty himself could sate.

“Such a naughty kitten, you are.”

“Oh, that I am,” the dark-eyed genius affirmed. He continued to tease his spouse, caressing so close to the bulge in his jeans, yet not actually laying a hand there. It was torturous.

A grunt tore from the sniper’s lips. “No props now, Magpie. Just the two of us, unrestrained.”

“Don’t need anything else, my sweet. You, me, and the Astroglide in my travel bag are all that’s required.”

“Are you telling me this just for kicks, or am I being propositioned?”

Jim gazed at him seductively. “Honey, if I was any more obvious, I’d be flashing a billboard.”

Moran got the gist after that. Without skipping a beat, he stood up and hung the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign outside their door. They were going to be busy for quite some time.

*********

“Comfortable, darling? I could make adjustments if you’d like.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll never get used to using this thing, though,” Jim said, referring to the wheelchair Sebastian had just helped him into.

The couple was at Adare’s lone cemetery. It was getting dark out, but Moriarty badly wanted to locate his mother’s grave. He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer when Moran suggested they look for it the next day. When he got it in his head to do something, it usually had to be undertaken straightaway. Patience was not a virtue he held dear.

“Do you have the flowers, Seb?”

“Yep. Here they are,” he confirmed, passing the bouquet to his mate. The mastermind had insisted they stop at a shop to pick up lavender blossoms. Apparently, those were his mother’s favorite and she used to grow her own in a garden.

Sebastian began pushing his omega through the dusky graveyard. It felt a bit spooky to him, but he dared not admit it.

“Any idea which one is hers?”

“Unfortunately, no, I don’t. But considering how small this place is, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find.”

As they navigated the area, Seb’s thoughts wandered from one thing to another, seemingly at random. Eventually, a matter came to mind that he’d wanted to discuss with Jim.

“Magpie?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve noticed you stopped wearing your blood pressure monitor. Is there a reason why?

“It’s broken.”

“Broken?”

“Yeah. When I threw it across the room, it must’ve short-circuited.”

“Hmm. I could take a look at it for you. I’m fairly handy with wiring.”

“Don’t bother. Truthfully, I’m glad to be rid of it. That beeping was obnoxious as hell.”

“It was just doing its job,” Moran noted. “Maybe we can get a new one from your doctor.”

“What part of ‘glad to be rid of it’ don’t you understand? Use your brain.”

“Jimmy, please reconsid—”    

“There!” the consulting criminal abruptly shouted, cutting Seb off in mid-sentence. “There it is!”

Indeed, the headstone he pointed at read _‘Moira Elizabeth Moriarty, Loving mother & friend.’ _They wheeled closer so that Jim could lay the flowers on her grave.

“Honey, do you need some time alone for this? I could take a walk.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Jim decreed. “I want you here. This is the closest either of you will get to meeting each other.”

“Okay, dear.” However his partner chose to handle this was fine by Sebastian. He was there to lend support.

A brief silence came over them as the genius pondered how to get started. He’d put plenty of people into graves, but never actually visited one before. Was there an established etiquette to adhere to? He suddenly wished he’d researched the subject prior to making the trip.

“So,” Jim finally began, “it’s me, mum. Your little prince, all grown up. I probably should’ve come to see you sooner, but it hurt too much,” he confessed. “I’ve been a busy boy through the years. Got myself a proper education and built up a web of clients and connections. Not to brag, but I’ve made a fortune. If you were still here, I’d have moved you into a posh château and got you the greenhouse you always wanted.” His voice faltered slightly as he attempted to stave off rising emotion.

“I’m married now, too. The man standing beside me is my husband, Sebastian. He’s a wonderful mate and I’m sure you’d have gotten along famously. He makes me happy, mum. I know that’s what you would’ve wanted for me— to find happiness in life.”

Seb placed a hand on Moriarty’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze to signify his encouragement.

“We’re going to be parents in a few months,” Jim continued. “It’s twins— a boy and a girl. Edward James and Estella Sebastienne are their names. We’ve prepared a beautiful nursery and playroom for them, and I’ve knitted a good deal of items meant to keep them warm,” he recounted. “I’m very excited for their arrival. Not so keen on the Caesarean birth I’ll have to undergo, but the end justifies the means. Whenever I get too anxious thinking about the surgery, I imagine what it’ll be like to hold them for the first time. That helps calm me down.” He grew quiet for a beat, wanting to say more, but struggling to find the right words. 

Moran let go of Jim’s shoulder and grasped his hand instead. The Irishman welcomed the gesture, twining their fingers together. It was a simple act, but one that meant the world to Moriarty.   

“I wish you were here, mum. Wish you could meet your grandbabies and sing to them the way you used to sing to me. Wish you could tuck them in and tell them bedtime stories. Whenever I got bored with my books, you’d make up your own stories to keep me entertained. I loved that. My favorite was the one about the prince who found a magical key that allowed him to unlock any door in the kingdom. Sometimes I think maybe it inspired me a bit.”

Jim shivered as a howling wind blew past. It was getting cold out.

“Tiger, I’ll need to go back to the car soon. I want to say one last thing, though.”

“Okay, hon.”

“Mum,” he addressed, resuming the ‘conversation’ with his mother, “I’m sorry I’ve never been able to catch your killer. Believe me, I’ve tried. Everything happened so fast that day, certain details are a blur. But I’ve always thought the vehicle that hit us was a dark blue pickup. I spent countless hours researching who, in this area, might’ve owned such a truck around the same time as the accident. Regrettably, my results were inconclusive and I came to realize that there was no foolproof way to know who the guilty party was. It enraged me,” he declared. “Still does, in fact. Knowing that some cowardly bastard got away with your murder…I think it’ll haunt me until the end of my days. I can’t abide it, and yet I must.” Jim somberly sighed, feeling very drained. “I love you, mum. Love you forever.”

Moriarty turned to look up at Sebastian. “We can go now.”

The sniper nodded. “Aye aye, kitten.”

When they returned to their car, the pair noticed a strange sight in the distance. There was an unmanned kite being propelled across the sky by a stiff breeze. Though difficult to make out from afar, there seemed to be a star pattern on the object.

Jim’s eyes widened as he was reminded of the kite he and his mother had flown during their last happy moment together. He wasn’t a superstitious man, but a part of him couldn’t help but feel like this was a sign of some kind. It was a fanciful notion, but who knew for sure?

A sense of peace flooded through him, filling his heart with unexpected joy. _Maybe you heard me after all, mum._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	56. The Choices We Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim’s potential employee has come to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“I want holly wreaths hung up here and here,” Jim declared, pointing to two specific spots. “I’d also like garland strung across the entire framework of the archway and twinkle lights accenting every window. Not the tacky multi-colored kind, but the white ones. Those give off such a brilliant glow.”

“You’ve really put thought into this,” Sebastian said, and it was true. Ever since they’d returned from their excursion to Ireland, the consulting criminal had been bursting with energy and ideas. Visiting his mother’s grave proved cathartic, relieving him of the invisible burden he’d carried with him for so long. Now he felt freer…more serene. He wanted to celebrate his newfound disposition by focusing on something positive— specifically, the impending holidays.      

“Of course I have. Decorating isn’t the sort of thing one does impulsively,” he stressed. “To do it well is an art form, and requires strategic planning and precision. You can’t approach it in a haphazard manner.”

“Well, I’m afraid there’s one decorative aspect you’ve overlooked, darling.”

Jim’s face scrunched up as he glanced around, contemplating what he might’ve missed. “Tiger, don’t be daft. I’ve forgotten nothing.” 

“Uh-huh, you sure did.”

“Never.”

“Wanna bet?” He grinned broadly, his blue eyes shimmering with delight.

“Stop saying that!” the Irishman commanded. “And at least have the decency to tell me what it is.”

“Okay, love. You forgot the mistletoe.”

A look of sudden realization washed over Moriarty. He _had_ neglected that particular Christmas accessory.

“Leave it to you to notice something like that,” Jim quipped.

“Just thought I should mention it, seeing as how you wanted to be thorough.”

“Yes, well, I’ll add it to my list of decorations. I intend to order a proverbial boatload of holiday adornments and then hire people to arrange them to my specifications,” he proclaimed. “Perhaps we could use the contractors who worked on the playroom and did such a fine job repairing the living room.”   

“Hmm, that may be doable.”

The mastermind’s lips upturned in a wicked smile. “I like the way that word rolls off your tongue, Tiger. _Doable._ Dooooo-aaaaa-ble.”

“You always did have a knack for stretching things out.”

“I know,” he whispered hotly into Sebastian’s ear. “Especially those _things_ I can unfurl inch-by-inch.” Forgoing all subtlety, he punctuated his statement by cupping the bulge that lay between the sniper’s legs. 

Moran captured his mate’s mouth, kissing him passionately. Jim tasted sweeter by the day and he could not get enough.

BZZ. BZZ.

The couple ignored the vibration emanating from the back pocket of Moriarty’s pants.

BZZ. BZZ.

The buzzing persisted, but again, they disregarded it in favor of continuing to make out with great verve.

BZZ. BZZ.

Whoever was texting the genius was incredibly determined. And also a total idiot to think they could get away with pestering him so incessantly.

“You’d better get that,” Seb said, breaking their heated exchange.

Jim grunted in frustration. “Yeah, guess so, or else my ass may never stop buzzing.”

The assassin chuckled. He often enjoyed the unique way his spouse phrased things.

“It’s Ian,” Moriarty exclaimed, reading the text messages he’d just been sent. “He’s ready to discuss the employment offer I made.”

“Oh? So we may be getting our office mole after all.”

“Fingers crossed, Sebby. With me going on paternity leave soon, the timing couldn’t be better.”

Moran nodded. “When will the two of you meet?”

“Today, if possible. I’ll take him to lunch and we can iron out the details,” he answered. “Where do you suppose we should dine? Someplace showy and sophisticated, I think, to really drive home the idea that working for me is a grand opportunity.”

“Careful he doesn’t mistake the gesture for more than what it is, Magpie.”

“Ugh, not this again. I told you already— I’m strictly trying to help the young man. There’s nothing more to it.”

“You’re charismatic, Jim. Even when you’re not attempting to flirt with someone, it comes off that way.”

He shrugged. “I have a naturally charming personality. So what?”

“So it can be easily misconstrued, especially when you’re dealing with a lonely, impressionable youth like Ian.”

The consulting criminal peered at his partner. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a teensy bit jealous.”

“Jealous?” he repeated incredulously. “Hardly. Why would I be?

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, dear.”

Seb scoffed. “It’s a ridiculous notion. As if a 19-year-old pregnant omega would be any competition?”

“Methinks you doth protest too much.”

The sniper sighed in exasperation and fell silent for a moment. “I’ve always wondered something, though.”

Moriarty arched a brow. “What’s that?”

“Have you ever been with another omega?”

“Honey, I’ve gone through the gamut— alpha, beta, and omega,” he matter-of-factly stated. “But before you work yourself up into a tizzy, I should note that you’ve been the best of the lot. Nobody holds a candle to you, my magnificent Tiger.”

“Okay, now you’re just saying things to make me feel better.”

“Is it working?”         

“Maybe,” he replied with a wink.

The genius laughed lightly. “Good. Now I’ve got to text Ian back and then make the necessary dining reservations.”

As Jim began typing on his phone, Moran spoke up once more. “Don’t take him anywhere too fancy.”

“Why not?”

“Because if he’s as down-and-out as you say, then odds are he probably doesn’t own a suit. All those posh places you love have dress codes.”

Jim paused, considering his husband’s advice. “Hmm. An astute observation.”

“I speak from experience. When we first met, I didn’t own a suit, remember?”

Thinking back, Moriarty did recall buying Sebastian an entire wardrobe of designer clothing shortly after they began dating. A man keeping his company needed to appear properly debonair.

“I do,” he admitted. “So where should we go, if not to one of my usual eateries?”

“A pub, perhaps. Generally, any kind of attire is allowed at those.”

His nose crinkled in disdain. “A pub? Ick. How _ordinary_.”

“Ordinary is the point, my love. You want a place that’s no-frills.”

“I suppose.” The mastermind still wasn’t sold on the idea.

“How about you let Ian pick the restaurant? Problem solved.”

Jim smiled gleefully at the suggestion. “Darling, you’re brilliant. Not as clever as me, of course, but brilliant nonetheless, in your own wonderful way.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

The assassin checked his watch. He really ought to drop by headquarters to make sure all was running smoothly. He also needed to touch base with the ladies who were planning Jim’s baby shower.

“Hon, I’m going to pop in at the office.”

“That’s fine. See you later, Sebby.”

Both men went their separate ways, each setting out to accomplish very different things. They took comfort in the knowledge that, no matter what, they would ultimately return home to each other.

*********

“Here you go, gentlemen. Our famous 5-meat medley. Enjoy!” a perky waitress said as she served Jim and Ian their meal.

They hadn’t ended up at a pub like Jim thought they might. Instead, they’d gone to a quaint Italian place of the younger man’s choosing, _Vittorio’s Pizzeria._

“Looks delicious,” Moriarty remarked, and he meant it. He’d not eaten processed meats since being put on a strict low-sodium diet that Seb was keen to enforce. But his militant mate wasn’t here right now, and Jim was going to take full advantage of that fact.

“Oh, it is,” Ian assured. “Reasonably priced, too.”

Jim grunted obscenely as he savored the first bite. “God, this is amaaaaazing.”

“Best pizza in London, hands down. I come here about once a month or so, when I can afford it.”

“Well, you’re in luck. By agreeing to work for me, you’ll soon be making more than enough money to dine here daily.”

“Wouldn’t be good for the baby to eat here too often, but I see your point.”

“Excellent, we’re on the same page,” he said between bites. “At least, I assume you’ve decided to take the employment offer I made. Correct?”

He nodded. “Yes. I’ve come to the conclusion that if I had higher wages, I could provide a better life for my child. Since I’ll be raising him or her alone, that’s an important factor to consider.”

“How very wise of you, Ian. I guarantee that coming on board with me is a step in the right direction.”

“I hope so.” There was still a hint of apprehension in his voice. “What would you have me do for you?”

“Splendid question,” the consulting criminal enthused. “When I asked if you had any special skills, I seem to recall you mentioning you were adept with digital arts and graphics.”

“Yeah. I was studying it in college before I got pregnant and had to drop out.”

“Would you be interested in maintaining the corporate website? The page hasn’t been revamped in ages. It could use an update.”

“Sure, that’d be easy. But it’s also the kind of thing one could do from home,” Ian pointed out. “I thought this would be an in-person assignment.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Jim informed his new hire. “In addition to acting as webmaster, I’d also like you to do a bit of secretarial work. Answer phones, send out memos, and keep an eye on the staff.”

“Keep an eye on the staff?” he reiterated curiously. “How do you mean?”

“Well, it’s come to my attention that there’s a disloyal individual hiding amongst the ranks. It would be a huge help if you were to remain vigilant of any unusual behavior, and then report back to me about it.”

Ian was silent for a few seconds, contemplating what was being asked of him. “You want me to be a spy?”

“Oh, heavens no. ‘Spy’ is such a dramatic word. What I had in mind was more along the lines of staying attuned to the heart of the office. Being alert to your coworker’s habits and behaviors.”

“Still sounds like spying…like I’d be your mole.”

The boy was cleverer than Jim anticipated. That could work for him or against him, depending on how things proceeded next.

“You’re very perceptive. A fine quality to possess, particularly when aligning yourself with a man like me.”

Now was as good a time as any to reveal the truth of his identity. How would the young man take the news?

“Ian, since you’re such a smart bloke, I feel inclined to be upfront with you.”

“Okay.” The shy omega wasn’t sure where Jim was headed with this conversation.

“I’m going to whisper in your ear who I _really_ am.” At that, he leaned across the table as best he could with his belly being in the way. “I’m James Moriarty, consulting criminal.”

There was an awkward pause as Ian clammed up.

“Well?” the genius urged, trying to elicit some form of response.

“I…already knew that.”

It took a lot to catch Jim off guard, but Ian had done it effortlessly and in one fell swoop.

“Excuse me, _what?”_ He was reeling, wondering how it was possible. Sure, he went by the name ‘Jim’ at the MOPS group, and used the initials ‘JM’ for phone and texting purposes, but it seemed unlikely Ian would’ve figured it out from those clues alone.

“I’ve known you were James Moriarty since your first meeting. Most of us know.”

All color drained from the mastermind’s face. He was completely and utterly aghast.

“Did I say the wrong thing? I’m sorry,” the youth was quick to apologize.

“No need, I’m just…dumbfounded.” He was virtually speechless, struggling to articulate a cohesive reply. “Most of you know? Really?”

“Yeah. Not Jack, because he’s surprisingly scatterbrained for a paralegal, but the rest of us do. We’ve all seen your picture in newspapers and on television screens.”

“Right. Of course.”

It’d been years since his image was broadcast through the media. With short attention spans being the norm these days, he assumed people would forget; would move on to other things, thus allowing him to hide in plain sight. Apparently, he’d operated under a colossally flawed premise.

This revelation raised questions. If the group was able to identify him, who else had by now? All the medical professionals he’d dealt with these past few months— had they known, too, and simply played along in fear of reprisal?

Jim stood up from the table, pulling out his wallet and dropping a few bills in front of Ian. “Here. Lunch is on me.”

“Wait, you don’t have to go.”

“I beg to differ. I’ve got some serious things to consider,” he ominously remarked.

“Do I still have the job?” Ian sounded panicked, terrified that another opportunity was crashing and burning before his eyes.

“Yes, your employment stands.”

Moriarty hastily exited the pizzeria. His mind was abuzz, thoughts racing at a breakneck pace. It was overwhelming, and if he’d been wearing his blood pressure monitor, it surely would’ve blared. He needed to speak to Sebastian, and fast.            

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	57. A Serpent Lurking in the Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally learn what Colin has been up to. Also, plans for Jim’s surprise baby shower are discussed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Colin Taylor’s life was going pretty well these days. His lawyer was in the process of getting the murder charges against him dropped, _and_ he no longer had to stay in the hellish prison unit he’d initially been confined to. Thanks to Sebastian Moran’s fists of iron, he and his attorney were able to convince the judge that his welfare was in jeopardy if he remained in police custody. The ghastly facial injuries incurred during Taylor and Moran’s meeting were very compelling, and he was permitted to stay at Bethlem Psychiatric Hospital until further notice.    

Though the facility— commonly referred to as ‘Bedlam’— had a rather infamous reputation, Taylor didn’t find it too bad. He was left alone in a locked ‘bedroom’ for most of the day, which worked out fine because it gave him time to catch up on his reading. The institution had a surprisingly decent library that he could request books from daily. Right now, he was finishing up _Moby Dick._ He felt an affinity for Ahab. Both he and the character were captains (albeit of different kinds), and more importantly, both understood the ever-consuming need for revenge. He only hoped his tale would end more satisfactorily than that of the whaler’s.

Colin glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly time for lunch. But lunch didn’t just mean food. No, it also denoted he’d be receiving a visitor as well.

_Katie._

During his residence at the hospital, he met a middle-aged nursing assistant by the name of Katherine Ramsey. She was a dowdy individual, beset by two failed marriages, an underactive thyroid, and a lazy eye. It hadn’t been too difficult to win her over. The woman was starved for male attention, and when he decided to break his self-imposed silence just to speak to her…well, it certainly made her feel special.

The two began to talk whenever she delivered his meals or brought him his latest library order. That he was recovering from Moran’s beating at the time was a boon to his cause— the injuries elicited sympathy from her, and soon he was able to convince the woman of his ‘innocence.’ He had her believing that the case against him was a terrible miscarriage of justice; a conspiracy to bring down a former soldier who’d turned his back on bloodshed in favor of leading a simpler life off the grid.

What, exactly, did Colin Taylor derive from his acquaintanceship with Ms. Ramsey? Besides entertainment value, the answer was access. More specifically, access to the iPhone she kept on her person. Along with dispensing lunch, she would also leave her mobile device behind so that he could correspond with his outside contact. She always retrieved her phone before leaving for the day, but during those precious hours between noon and 5 p.m., he had unlimited access.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

_Bingo._

As expected, the matronly medical worker entered his room carrying a tray of food. She sat it on the nightstand and then moved to shut the door.

“Hi, Colin,” the woman cheerfully greeted. “How’s your day going?”

“Better, now that you’re here.” He faked a smile to appease her desire for affection. “What’s on the menu today?”

“Meatloaf with mashed potatoes and broccoli. Not the most appealing dish, but…” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small package of cookies. “I got these from the vending machine. Thought you might like them.”

“Thanks, dear. You’re a peach.”

Katie blushed slightly. “It’s the least I could do, after the hell you’ve gone through.”

“Just the sight of your lovely face makes my world a bit more bearable,” he lied.

The woman beamed with contentment. It was so easy to manipulate her, Colin almost felt guilty. _Almost._

She slipped her hand into another pocket, this time retrieving the item Taylor most coveted— her iPhone. Passing it to him, she spoke. “I have to cut out of here early today, so I’ll need this back by 3 o’clock. Hope that’s okay.”

_Grr._ There’d be no time to dally. No mucking about checking sports scores or reading the news. He’d have to get down to business straightaway.

“It’s fine, Katie. What’s going on this afternoon?”

“Just a dental appointment. One of my teeth has been bothering me. I think it’s a cavity.”

“Sorry to hear that, babe. Probably got it because you’re so damn sweet.” Colin cringed internally at how thick he was laying on the artificial charm. A smarter woman might’ve seen through his guise, but Katherine Ramsey was the type who’d relinquish all common sense in exchange for potential romance. It was a romance that would never happen, not in a million years, but she didn’t have to know that.

If the nursing assistant was happy before, she was absolutely delighted now. “Oh, Colin. You say such kind things. It’s inspiring how thoughtful and upbeat you are while being kept in captivity. Not a lot of people would be so resilient.”    

He paused, taking a moment to ruminate on her remark. “It’s belief in karma that keeps my spirit strong. I endure each day with the knowledge that my adversaries will eventually be made to answer for their transgressions.”

“Be sure your sin will find you out,” she quoted.

“Read the Bible often, do you?”

“My mum was a good, proper Christian,” Katie declared. “Used to make me study scripture with her every night.”

“That’s beautiful, dear.” _Mum must’ve been a real nutter. No wonder she ended up working in an asylum. Probably reminded her of home._

The woman sighed wistfully. “Wish I could stick around here longer, but if I don’t return to my post, people may become curious.”

“I understand. See you later, Katie.”

“Au revoir,” she said with a smile, bidding him goodbye.

When the door closed behind her, he immediately reached for the phone. “Finally. Thought that slag would never leave.”

Colin dialed a number, praying his contact would pick up. Alas, it went to voicemail.

“Hey, we don’t have as much time to talk today. Call me back as soon as you can.”

All he could do now was wait.

*********

“So what do you think of our plans?” Gemma asked as she and her baby shower collaborator, Annie, sat in Moran’s office.

“Everything the two of you have laid out sounds good.” They’d decided on food, games, decorations, and more. The event itself would be held at his and Jim’s house. The mastermind took a lot of naps these days, so they’d stage the party while he was asleep, ensuring he’d wake up to a grand surprise.

“The only thing we’re having trouble with is the guest list,” Annie noted.

“Oh?”

“Yes. I don’t know how to say this without it coming out awkwardly, but…Mr. Moriarty doesn’t have many friends.”

“He’s got plenty of business associates,” Gemma was quick to add, “it’s just that these sorts of celebrations are usually an intimate gathering of friends and family. We didn’t realize how small his circle was until midway through our preparations.”

“I see.” Honestly, Seb could’ve told them that from the start. Of course London’s most dangerous man didn’t have a rolodex of friends on standby. You didn’t garner his reputation by playing nice.

“We were wondering if you knew of anyone he might want to invite?”

“Hmm. Actually, yeah. He’s recently become chummy with a bloke by the name of Ian Fitzgerald.” _You may be seeing a lot of him soon, if things go well at his and Jim’s lunch._

“Excellent, sir,” she said, committing the moniker to memory.

“Also,” Gemma spoke, “I was considering asking my cousin to tag along in order to beef up the numbers. She’s a sweet girl and we could use all the attendees we can get.”  

“That should be fine,” Seb replied. “I trust your judge of character.” Gemma always seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. He had faith that she would not permit any riffraff onto the guest list.

BZZ. BZZ.

The sniper’s phone was buzzing.

“Sorry, ladies. Hold on a second.” He pulled out his device and saw he’d received a text from Jim.

 

_JM_

_Was just delivered shocking news. Must speak to you._

_Shocking news?_ His heart pounded with dread.

“I have to respond to the message I was sent,” he alerted Gemma and Annie. “It’s important.”

The women understood, graciously thanking him for his time and then exiting his office. 

_SB_

_What’s wrong? Is it the babies?_

 

_JM_

_No. The babies are okay. This is another matter entirely._

 

_SB_

_Thank God. You gave me a fright._

 

_JM_

_Sorry, Tiger. But we NEED to talk. I’ll swing by headquarters._

 

_SB_

_Sure thing. You know where to find me._

 

Seb sat back in his armchair, wondering what could possibly be going on now. Jim always did have a flair for dramatics, so perhaps this was one of his imagined crises.

_But what if it really is something serious?_

The truth would reveal itself soon.        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	58. Confessions of a Consulting Criminal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim confronts some hard truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“I really don’t think this is worth getting riled up over. A few men in your pregnancy group recognized you— it’s not great news, but it isn’t the end of the world, either.”

Sebastian had just spent the past 20-minutes listening to Jim go on a tirade about how ‘everyone’ knew his identity, and it was, according to him, a ‘catastrophe.’ While the sniper agreed it was an unfortunate turn of events, he didn’t feel the issue was quite as dire as his omega made it out to be.   

 _“Most_ , Seb. Not a few. Most,” he corrected. “You don’t seem to get it. If I’m still in people’s heads, then I could become a target. Or worse, our _children_ could become targets.”

“None of you will be targets, that much I guarantee. I’ll protect you, and we’ll protect them. We’re a family unit. We look out for each other.”

The consulting criminal huffed, turning away from his husband. He was quiet for a moment, almost _too_ quiet.

“Jimmy, it’ll be okay.” Seb reached out to put a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder, but he jerked out of his grasp.

“No! Nothing will be okay! How do you not comprehend that?” His voice was breaking as he spoke.

 _Something’s wrong here._ Moriarty could be temperamental, especially now, with his hormones in a state of flux. But even so, he wouldn’t be this affected by the situation. There had to be more to it.

“Hon, what’s the real reason you’re upset? There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said. “And don’t claim it isn’t true. I’m an expert Magpie whisperer, remember? I can sense these things.”

“It’s…I…” Jim trailed off and his breathing grew audibly labored. Moreover, he appeared to be trembling.

 _Oh no. Not another attack._ “Let me help you to the couch.”

Seb took the genius by the arm and didn’t allow him to pull away this time. When he got a good look at him, he understood why he’d turned his back: he was in tears.

The assassin ushered his distraught spouse to the leather sofa in his private office. Once seated, Jim hung his head low, not wanting to meet Sebastian in the eye. He also continued to shake uncontrollably.

Sitting close beside him, Moran began rubbing his back in a soothing manner. He could feel a great deal of tension built up in his muscles.

“Talk to me, love. Let your Tiger help.”

“You _can’t_ help this. No one can. I’ve made my bed and now I have to lie in it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Figure it out.”

“I’m not as smart as you, darling. I’m afraid I need further elaboration.”

“Smart as me?” he scoffed. “That’s a laugh riot. Turns out, I’m a fucking idiot.”

Seb frowned at the harsh remark. “Never, Jimmy. You’re the cleverest person I know.”

“If that’s true, then you really ought to broaden your horizons.”

“My horizons are just fine,” he replied. “As your husband, your alpha, and your friend, I insist that you _tell me_ what’s going on.”

“I’ve already explained. Ian and some others realized who I was straightaway. They knew on sight.”

“For a time, you were all over the media. Even if it was years ago, it stands to reason that you’d be recognized sooner or later.”

“I know, Seb. I _know_. That’s the problem.”

“Hmm?” The sniper wished his partner would speak less cryptically.

Jim finally looked up, casting a sad gaze on Sebastian. “I was lying to myself,” he confessed.

The sniper stared back at him, perplexed. “Lying? How?”

“Even though my image was once plastered across the news, I was convinced no one would be able to identify me. I told myself over and over again that ordinary people had the mental capacity of goldfish. That they’d forget my face as soon as something else entered their myopic little minds. I was wrong.”

“That’s not a lie, hon.”  

“Oh, yes, it is,” the Irishman declared. “Because while that’s what I believed in my head, in my heart, it was different. In my heart, I _knew_.” He paused, unsuccessfully attempting to catch his breath.

“Jim, maybe we should go outside for some fresh air.”

“No! Let me finish.”

“Okay. I’m just concerned for you, is all.”

“Don’t be,” he rasped. “I…I knew, deep down, that someone would recognize me eventually. But I shoved common sense aside because I wanted to believe the lie. Now, more than ever, I wanted to believe it, and I wish I still could.”

“Why, Jimmy?”

“Because look at me, Sebastian. Look at who I’ve become these past 6 ½, almost 7 months.”

“That’s how long you’ve been carrying the twins,” Moran plainly noted. _What’s he getting at?_

“Yes, exactly. I’ve become an expectant omega who knits, and bakes, and cries at the drop of a hat. _Me,_ Seb. The purported ‘most dangerous man in London.’”

“What are you saying? That you’re unhappy? That you regret doing this?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head emphatically. “That’s the thing. I could _never_ regret our children. I love them, and I love knitting mittens and caps, and I love baking treats to bring to my group meetings. I love _all_ of it,” he stressed. “But do you know who wouldn’t? You know who’d absolutely _despise_ it? James Moriarty. Because he is untouchable. He’s cold, calculating, and cruel. He would never do any of the things I’ve done these past several months.” 

Seb was at a loss for words. What Jim was saying wasn’t untrue. The mastermind had changed a great deal since becoming pregnant. He’d grown in so many ways— it was beautiful, like watching the transformation of a caterpillar into a butterfly.

“Jim, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Well, imagine how I feel. I can’t reconcile who I was for most of my life with who I am right now. And that’s the crux of it. Some part of me wanted the world to forget James Moriarty, criminal extraordinaire, because if they could, then maybe I could, too. Maybe I could just be Jim.”

“Oh, Magpie. I love every version of you, both old and new. I always will,” the assassin proclaimed. 

“And I love you, Tiger.” Jim leaned over, wrapping his arms around Moran as he laid his head on the alpha’s shoulder.

Sebastian hugged him back and noticed that his breathing had normalized and his trembling ceased.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be the man I once was, Sebby. Sometimes…” he stopped, leaving the unfinished statement dangling between them.

“Sometimes what, sweetheart?”

The genius wearily sighed. “Sometimes, I think I might walk away from it all after the babies are born.”

 _Bloody hell._ Up to this point, Seb never dreamed his spouse would consider such a thing. This was huge.

“Retire, darling? Really?”

“Yes, perhaps,” he confirmed. “The ‘me’ who’s sitting here, bearing his soul to you, wants a different kind of life. But the ‘me’ who painstakingly built a criminal empire from scratch…he wants to return to work as soon as possible. My mind is in conflict with itself, Sebastian. I’m so changeable, and it’s maddening.”

“Whatever you decide to do, I’ll support you,” the sniper assured. “If you say you want to go back to running this city with an iron fist, I’ll be there right beside you. And if you say you’d rather stay close to home and care for our children, I’d understand that, too. Either way, I’m in this with you for the long haul.”

“Thank you, love.”

“No thanks are necessary. You’re a gift, Jim, given to me by the universe. I won’t ever let you go.”

“You’d better not,” Moriarty playfully remarked.

The small smile Seb saw on his mate’s face was the ultimate reward. 

*********

RING. RING.

Colin closed the book he was reading and answered the phone.

“I was beginning to think you’d never call back.”

“Quit complaining. I’m here now, aren’t I?” the voice on the line said. “Better late than never.”

“Just don’t make it a habit,” he warned. “Have you got any updates?”

“Nothing significant to report. The next phase is still a go. I’ll implement it soon.”

“Good. I’ve got a few new ideas, by the way. I’ll email you the specifics. I think you’re gonna get a kick out of them.”

“You’re a wicked man, Colin Taylor. I’m grateful we’re on the same side.”

He laughed. “I’m only a bad guy if you cross me.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” the voice spoke. “Any word on the charges being dismissed?”

“Eh, not yet. The legal system is slow. Too slow, frankly. But I can be patient.”  

“I worry whether or not I’ll be able to pull everything off myself. If you don’t get out, we may have to consider an alternate endgame.”  

“Hey, don’t talk that way. For now, we’re sticking to the plan as is. Understand?”

“Yeah. I’ll do my best to execute the orders.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” he asserted. “Chin up, and remain focused. I know you want to bring down Moran as much as I do. Don’t lose sight of the goal.”

“I won’t disappoint you, Colin.”

“I sincerely hope not.”

At that, they ended their conversation. Though Taylor was loath to admit it, he too wondered what would happen if the charges against him weren’t dropped. He’d be asking a lot of his cohort to carry on the mission without him. He _needed_ to be free in order for their plans to reach full potential. Right now, he could bide his time. But eventually, there would be a reckoning.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	59. Traditions, Old & New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim recruits an unexpected baking assistant. Also, holidays past are revisited during the mastermind's group meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In-universe, it's meant to be late November/early December, which is why Christmas figures so heavily into this chapter. 
> 
> ****************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

It’d been a hectic day at headquarters and Sebastian couldn’t wait to return home. As he pulled into the driveway, he was immediately taken aback by what he saw. There were twinkle lights, holly wreaths, and ribbons abound.

_Looks like Jim made good on his promise to have the place decorated._

When Seb walked inside, he was greeted to even more festive surroundings. Everything was done up exactly as his mate had envisioned it, and then some. An enormous fir tree sat in the living room, adorned with white lights, red and gold baubles, and a star on top. Knitted stockings were hung over the fireplace, personalized with each of their ‘names’— Magpie, Tiger, Essie, and Eddie. Moran had never heard of unborn children getting their own stockings, but he supposed Jim didn’t want to leave them out of the revelry. And lastly, there was mistletoe. The familiar plant now dangled between every doorway.

Moriarty entered the room, grinning from ear to ear. “What do you think?”

“It’s wonderful, dear. You really outdid yourself. I can’t remember the house ever being this decorated before.”

“That’s because it hasn’t been,” the mastermind informed. “I wanted to do something special to celebrate our first Christmas with the babies.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Uh, kitten, since they’re not technically ‘here’ yet, I’m not sure if this counts.”

“Of course it counts,” Jim said, sounding shocked that his husband would dare question the matter. “They _are_ here. I feel them inside me every day. They’re cognizant and we communicate.”

The sniper quickly realized how badly he’d stuck his foot in his mouth. “You’re right. I’m sorry, hon.” He hoped a swift apology would curb any further ill-will. “I noticed you made some lovely stockings for us.”

“Yes, it wouldn’t be a proper yuletide without them,” the Irishman replied. His tone seemed to have mellowed.

“I also spied mistletoe,” Moran remarked, closing in on Jim. “A fine addition, I’d say.”

“After the other day, how could I forget it?”

Seb smiled devilishly. “You couldn’t. Now let’s uphold tradition.” Without another word, he scooped the genius into his arms and carried him to the nearest doorway. Beneath the hanging plant, he laid a dazzling kiss upon his lips. They lingered in their exchange, savoring the act for all it was worth before finally pulling apart.

“Bloody hell, Tiger. If I’d known you would respond like that, I’d have hung mistletoe ages ago.”

“Live and learn, my sweet.”

DING.

The former colonel peered curiously at Jim. “Was that the oven timer?”

“Yeah. I’m going to bake more treats for the meeting tonight.”

Sebastian carefully set his spouse back down. “I thought you were planning to cut back on the baking? Not wear yourself out with it.”

“It’s funny you should say that. As it turns out, I won’t have to overexert myself because I’ll have help in the kitchen.”

“Oh? Who’ve you brought on?”

“You, darling. Duh.”

“Me?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yes, you. Who else would I recruit?”

“Hrm…I don’t know. Maybe someone with real pastry chef training?” The assassin could cook a few dishes quite well, but dessert was not his forte.

“Relaaaaaax,” Moriarty cooed. “I’ll handle the baking part. The dough is already rolled and the oven’s done preheating. I just need you to assist me in cutting out and decorating the cookies.”

“I guess I could manage that without fouling it up too badly. What kind of cookies are they?”

“Gingerbread men,” he stated. “They’ll be whimsical and delicious.”

“Well, when you describe it like that, how can I refuse? Far be it from me to deny the power of whimsy.”

“Precisely. Now come along and we’ll get started.” Jim didn’t bother waiting for a reply, he simply turned around and headed towards the kitchen. Naturally, his Tiger followed.

*********

To Sebastian’s amazement, he discovered that baking could actually be fun. He and Moriarty worked diligently together, preparing the sweet treats and then piping little faces onto them.   

As they approached the end of the dough, Seb decided to do something cheeky. When his partner wasn’t looking, he added an extra appendage to a few of the cut-out figures and quickly stuck them in the oven.

Eventually, the timer rang and Jim stood up to retrieve the last batch. “You’ve really been a great help, Tiger.”

Moran shrugged, flashing a sly grin. “I aim to please.”

The dashing blonde began a countdown in his head, starting from the time Jim opened the oven door until he noticed what was staring at him on the baking sheet.

_5, 4, 3, 2—_

“Sebastian Augustus Moran!”

“Yes, dear?” He tried to keep a straight face, but it was damn near impossible.

“Why do these gingerbread men have three legs?!”

“Are you sure those are legs, sweetheart? Perhaps they’re just happy to see you.”

The mastermind looked at his mischievous mate, then to the anatomically correct cookies, and back again. Suddenly, he burst into laughter. It was wild and uproarious. The kind that gives you a cramp in your side and brings tears to your eyes.

By the time he made it back to the kitchen table, he was breathless. “Oh god, you need to warn me before pulling a stunt like that.”

“Ah, but then it loses the element of surprise.”

“True.” He inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to resume a normal breathing pattern. “I think I’ll leave this last batch at home, though some of the blokes at the meeting would probably get a kick out of it.”

“I bet,” the assassin said with a wink. “I’m glad you’re still going to your group, by the way. After what you found out this week, I was afraid you might not return.”

“Well, I considered quitting MOPS. But then it occurred to me that the people I’ve met there have always treated me like I was just ‘Jim.’ Despite knowing my true identity, they welcomed me without question. I think that counts for something.”

“I think so, too.”

 _Maybe I should invite more of the group members to the baby shower besides just Ian. They seem supportive,_ Seb mused. _On the other hand…a house full of pregnant omegas could present a challenge. All the amplified emotions, the appetites, and the need for frequent bathroom breaks. Hmm._ He would have to give the idea further reflection.

“I’m going to take a little catnap before we have to go out. Care to join me?”

“I’d love to, hon.” Seb had gotten a second wind since coming home, but he knew that Jim tended to sleep better when he was there to hold him. So the blonde would oblige. Certainly, it was the least he could do for the bearer of his children.

*********

“Who wants to go first tonight?” Trevor the ‘Male Omega Pregnancy Support’ organizer asked.

Generally, it took a few minutes to get the conversation rolling, but tonight they had an immediate volunteer. Scott, a ginger-haired gentleman, spoke up. “I’d like to give an update on the situation with my family.”

“Okay, let’s hear it.”

“As you may recall, I recently talked about how my sister contacted me on behalf of our parents. They wanted to reconnect and have me over for the holidays,” he explained. “Well, I decided to take the advice I got from the group and make an effort to mend fences with them. I’ll be spending this Christmas with my parents, siblings and cousins.”

“That’s wonderful,” Trevor affirmed.

“It really is. I’m looking forward to all the traditions I’ve missed out on since the estrangement. Cooking goose and Yorkshire pudding, attending midnight mass, and going caroling. I’m excited just thinking about it.”

“Oh, I used to love caroling,” one MOPS member fondly recalled.

“Me, too,” another agreed. “Haven’t done it since I was a boy.”

“Goose,” someone else remarked, “was always my favorite part of Christmas dinner. Besides the egg nog, that is, but I’m laying off the stuff this year for obvious reasons.”

The group descended into a cacophony of chatter as the attendees began bringing up various holiday traditions they enjoyed. It became difficult to hear one voice over another, and soon the sound blurred into little more than an acute, discordant buzz.    

Finally, the coordinator stepped in to regain control of the room. “Hey!” he shouted, “listen up,” and thankfully, people did. “It’s great that you’re so eager to dive into the conversation, but it’s important we conduct ourselves in an orderly manner.” He paused, adding, “Since it seems everyone is keen to discuss the impending holidays, I think we should make that the theme for the first half of this meeting. What Christmastime practices would you like to pass along to your children?”

Most were thrilled with Trevor’s suggestion and spoke openly on the topic. All except for Jim and Ian, that is.  The two members who grew up primarily in foster care had few happy memories to share. It didn’t stop other MOPS participants from encouraging them, though.

“Come on guys,” Jack urged. “There’s got to be something about the holiday that you enjoy enough to want to share with your babies.”

Jim thought hard on it, recalling Christmases past. Nowadays, he spent them with Seb, but that was the only constant. There were no customs they upheld on a regular basis, and oftentimes, they weren’t even at home for the occasion. Last December 25th, they were vacationing in the Swiss Alps, drinking hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps and skiing down slopes.

He went back further in his mind. Before Sebastian. Before a life of crime. Before foster care. Moriarty remembered his mother.

“There is one thing my mum did at Christmas that I might also be inclined to do with the twins.”

“See,” Jack gleefully proclaimed. “I knew it.”

Jim rolled his eyes, ignoring the man’s smug response. “On Christmas Eve, she would tell me how everybody leaves cookies for Santa, but they forget about his reindeer. This was a terrible oversight, she explained, because without them, he’d never be able to fly all around the world. So, she’d have us set out a plate of carrots just for Rudolph and his friends. Then, on Christmas morning, we’d come downstairs and there’d be nibble marks in the carrots. Obviously, she must’ve done it herself to make it look like an animal had been there, but at the time, I thought it was very cool. I might try something similar with my children when they reach a certain age.”

“That’s delightful,” Jack replied.

“An incredibly sweet story,” another man declared.

“So Ian, it’s just you now. What have you got?”

The young omega shook his head. “I honestly don’t have any traditions to share. Not a single one. Sorry.”

Jack frowned. “Ah, well, that’s too bad. Maybe your baby’s father has some he can pass down.”

Ian’s demeanor instantly grew tense. “No. _Never_ ,” he stressed. “You know I’m single. Why would you suggest such a thing?”

“It was just a passing notion,” the man said. “Even if you and your partner aren’t together anymore, I assume he’d have some involvement in your child’s life.”

“You guessed wrong. Very wrong.”

 _Clearly a pressure point,_ Jim observed. He hadn’t seen Ian get this upset before. His baby’s father was a definite trigger. _But why?_ The mastermind was curious.

“Guys,” Trevor interjected, “let’s not ruffle each other’s feathers. I think this is a good time to pause for our break. Once again, Jim has prepared some delectable treats for us. Help yourselves,” he directed, “and we’ll reconvene in about 15–20 minutes.”

The group scattered, some leaving to use the restroom while others stayed behind to sample refreshments. It was an ideal opportunity for Moriarty to make his move. He approached Ian, sitting beside him.

“Everything okay? You seemed a bit agitated a moment ago.”

The teenager sighed. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’s just that family is a rough subject for me, especially in regard to my baby’s father.” 

“Well, whoever he is, I already know he’s a right arsehole for leaving you in a lurch like this,” Jim stated.

“You’re correct, he is an arsehole. And a whole lot worse than that, too. Which is why I haven’t told him I’m pregnant, and I never will.”

“Really?” The consulting criminal hadn’t expected that piece of news. It must’ve been a particularly brutal breakup for him to take such a firm stance.  

“Yes, really.”

Ian’s expression spoke volumes. It was obvious he wanted to say more, but was afraid of divulging too much.

Jim found himself feeling strangely parental, fighting the urge to give the boy a hug and reassure him that things would get better. It was such a foreign instinct, he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“You know, I love MOPS, but some nights these discussions do nothing but stir up shit in my head,” the youth lamented.

“I hear that. I’ve had the same problem.”

“How do you get through it?”

“My husband helps me a lot,” he reflexively answered. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them, not because they were untrue, but because it seemed wrong to mention Seb when this boy had no one. 

If Ian was bothered by the honest response, he didn’t show it. “Your mate is a solid bloke. I’ve seen the two of you together here and there— you have a natural connection that comes through even when you don’t talk. It’s in your body language…the way you carry yourselves in each other’s presence. There’s a sense of trust.” 

“You notice the little things…the details. That’s good.” He’d chosen his workplace mole well. “Picked up on any peculiarities at headquarters?”

“Not yet. So far, everyone’s been very gracious.”

“It’s only your first week. The traitor may not present themself right away, but you’ll be there when they do.”

“The moment I see something amiss, I’ll alert you ASAP. You can hold me to that.”

“Oh, believe me, I will.” 

Moriarty was putting a lot of faith into this young man. He sincerely hoped it wasn’t misplaced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	60. Paternity Leave – Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim readies for paternity leave. There are some surprises, good and bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There's a little bit of gore towards the end. 
> 
> ********************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

This was it— Jim’s last day of work before going on paternity leave. He planned to spend the afternoon at headquarters so that he could tie up any loose odds and ends. He wasn’t sure when, or if, he’d be back, so it seemed like the most appropriate course of action.

Sebastian greeted him on arrival in the lobby, escorting him to his private office. They passed several employees on the way, and many of them actually smiled and made eye contact. That was major progress. After the sex tape incident, everything had become so awkward between him and his personnel. It was a relief to see the dynamics return to normal.

As the couple stood in front of Jim’s office, Seb spoke up. “I’m going to ask that you close your eyes and let me get the door for you.”

“Why? I can do it just fine myself.”

“Trust me, darling.” The sniper flashed him a coy, yet irresistible look that he knew Moriarty couldn’t deny.

“This had better be good,” he said, shutting his lids tight.

Moran grasped him by the hand and led him inside. “You can take a peek now, love.”

Jim did, and what he saw was delightful. On his desk sat a large, multitier tower of golden boxes. He instantly recognized the packaging. It looked like—

“My favorite chocolates,” he blurted out, staring in awe at the gift.

Seb grinned. “That’s right. Imported directly from Belgium.”

He approached the tower of gourmet confectionery, examining the contents of each tier. They contained all the best varieties, as if expertly chosen with his tastes in mind.

“This is wonderful, Tiger. Must’ve cost a fortune, too.”

“Yes, it did. But everyone at headquarters chipped in. This is a group gift from your staff, myself included.”

That wasn’t the end of it. Also sitting on his desk was a large envelope bearing his name. “And what’s this?”

“Open it and find out,” Sebastian urged with a wink.

He obliged, discovering that it was an oversized greeting card. A cute drawing of a stork carrying a baby bundle was depicted on the front. Inside were the signatures of all those who worked at the office.   

“It’s lovely,” Jim stated, genuinely touched by the gesture.

“Glad it meets your approval. I wanted to make sure you got a proper sendoff.” 

“I wasn’t expecting anything like this. Thank you.”

“It was the least I could do,” the thoughtful blonde replied. “After all, I’m the one who put you in this condition.”

“Yes, but not without my explicit encouragement and consent.”

Moran moved close to his mate, enjoying the sweet scent of him. “Now that you mention it, that _was_ some pretty intense ‘encouragement.’ As I recall, you insisted we shag a minimum of three times a day to ensure conception. We may have been vacationing in the Cotswolds that week, but the only sights I took in were of you, from all angles.”

Jim affected a face of mock innocence, staring at the assassin with big, brown eyes. “I don’t remember you expressing any complaints. In fact, I think you liked it _a lot_ ,” he declared. “The idea of having me completely. Of claiming me in a way that no one else ever had or ever would. It was an alpha’s wet dream and you relished it.”    

“So what if I did?” Seb countered, capturing his mate between the desk and himself.

The mastermind’s coquettish façade fell away, replaced by a wanton gleam. “Then you’d be the same as me, because I fucking _loved_ it.”

Sebastian breathed heavily, his desire rising. He imagined ravishing Jim right then and there, atop every piece of furniture in the office.

“Getting a bit excited are we, solider?” the genius cheekily inquired. He could feel his husband’s arousal pressing against him.

“I’m always excited for you.”

Moriarty smiled devilishly. “Tonight, my gorgeous Tiger.”

“Tonight?”

“Oh, yes. I expect you to make my first official night of paternity leave a memorable one. Bear in mind, I’m not quite as limber as I used to be, but I’ve still got a few good moves up my sleeve.”

“Anything you want, I can deliver.” If Jim was seeking an evening of unbridled passion, he’d get it.

“I’m very pleased to hear that, dear,” he cooed, stroking Seb’s stubbled cheek. “Now if you’d be so kind as to run along, I’ve got work to do.”

_Shit._ Moran was really hoping the conversation would lead somewhere else entirely. It never ceased to amaze him how easily Jim could turn the charm and seduction on and off at will.

“You’re a cock tease, Jimmy, of the highest order.”

“I knooooow.”

As the sniper headed for the door, Moriarty spoke again. “By the way, Seb, I want you to pick up takeout for dinner. It has to be ready as soon as we get out of here.”

“Any special requests?” Really, that was a silly question. Jim _always_ made special food requests, without exception.

“Yes, get me eggplant parmigiana and baked ziti— extra cheese on both. And then throw in whatever you might like for yourself.”

“You want two dinners?”

“Got a problem with that?”

“No, sir. Just checking to be sure I understood correctly.”

“Your orders have been made clear, colonel.”

“Aye, aye.”

Sebastian exited the Irishman’s office, eagerly awaiting the end of the day. Thankfully, he had a meeting to attend and an assignment to oversee. If he kept busy, time would fly by faster…or so he hoped.

*********

“Tiiiiiiiiger,” Jim bellowed as the assassin returned to their car with bags of takeout in hand. “That took forever.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It wasn’t my fault. They’re swamped in there.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to the babies. The three of us are desperately hungry,” he proclaimed. “When my stomach growled, I think it scared them.”

Moran did his best to suppress a laugh. Jim could be the ultimate drama queen sometimes.

“I’m sure they’re fine.”

“You didn’t feel it. I swear they jumped.”

The consulting criminal looked down at his belly, gently rubbing it. “No need to fret, my darlings. Daddy will have dinner soon.”

Seb smiled. _It’s so sweet, the way he talks to them._

“I watched a video online about how babies can become frightened and cry in utero,” Jim remarked, turning his attention back to Sebastian.

“No kidding? I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Me either, until I saw it for myself. The footage was quite unsettling. It made me wonder how many times Essie and Eddie have endured such a terrible experience. I get anxious just thinking about it.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, hon. You speak to them so soothingly— I’m positive your voice makes them feel safe.”

“I do try my hardest in that regard,” the genius acknowledged. “You’re not always there to witness it, but we have splendid conversations throughout the day.”

“Oh? Explains why my ears have been burning lately,” he teased.

“Hush. On those rare occasions when you’ve come up during our chats, we’ve had only good things to say. However, that could easily be rectified, so I’d tread carefully if I were you.”

“Duly noted.” _Still sassy,_ the sniper mused. Jim may have transformed in a variety of ways, but at his core, some aspects remained the same. Somehow, the notion warmed Seb’s heart.

 

 

As the couple neared their house, Moriarty took a moment to marvel at how magnificent the place looked. The Christmas lights were on a timer and had turned on prior to their arrival. Illuminated, the mansion really was a thing of beauty. Jim often wished for a home as festive and inviting as this when he was child. Every once in a while, perhaps dreams did come true.

When they reached the driveway, Moran carried their food to the front door, stopping to pull out his key and undo the lock. That was when he noticed a package.

“Did you order something, love?” Sebastian asked, stepping inside their residence. He sat the takeout on the kitchen counter and approached his partner, who stood at the entryway, eyeballing the parcel.

“No, I didn’t. And this doesn’t appear to have postage on it.”

A shared sense of dread came over both men. They remembered all too clearly the last unmarked package that graced their doorstep— it’d been their interior decorator’s severed hands in a box. Certainly, this couldn’t be as ghastly as that, though…right?

After exchanging a glance, they knew they had to see what was in there. Seb took the reins, bringing the mysterious item into the house and setting it on the coffee table. He pulled a switchblade from his back pocket, but paused before using it.

“Are you sure you want me to open this? We could get rid of it without checking what’s inside.”

Jim shook his head. It was a tempting offer, but he had to know the contents. “Just do it, Seb.”

And so the assassin did, slicing through the heavy duct tape that kept the box closed. Thank god they hadn’t eaten yet, or else the foul odor that wafted out may have caused upset.   

“Fuck, what is that?” Moriarty exclaimed in disgust.

“It smells like death,” Seb said, and he wasn’t joking. It reeked of decay.

Now that the seal had been broken, it was time to lift the flaps and actually learn what was producing the stench. Neither was enthusiastic about that part, but it needed to be done.

Sebastian mentally prepared himself— _3, 2, 1. Go!_

The Tiger and his Magpie stared agape at the grisly sight that lay inside. It appeared to be…small body parts? But there was something odd about the way they looked. Something not quite human.

“This is a fetal pig,” Jim stated, “that someone decided to dismember and let decompose.”

“A fetal pig? How can you be sure?”

“We dissected one in a biology class I took. Though the specimens they gave us at school were a lot less putrefied than this.” He hesitated, ogling the contents keenly. “Sebby…I believe there’s something else in there as well.”

The blonde saw it, too. He was about to stick his hand in and grab it, when Jim stopped him, fetching rubber gloves from the kitchen.

“Use this. Lord only knows what kind of bacteria might be festering among the rot.”

“Smart thinking.” Now safeguarded, Moran reached inside the box and retrieved an envelope with the word _‘Daddy’_ scribbled on it.

There was a silence as Jim’s expression grew panicked and his breathing sped up. “I…I’m probably meant to open that,” he stammered.

“You don’t have to. I will,” Seb asserted. The alpha was feeling very protective of his mate.          

“I won’t have you coddling me. I’m a big boy, Sebastian. Give me those gloves and I’ll do it myself.”

He complied, knowing the mastermind would have it no other way.

Moriarty was trying very hard not to launch into a full-blown anxiety attack, but even as he held the envelope, he was shaking. His Tiger saw this, and rested a hand on his shoulder to help calm him.

It was now or never. The Irishman tore into the letter, unfolding the paper inside.

He promptly collapsed upon reading it.  

“Jim!” Seb swooped in, carrying his spouse to the couch. Once he laid him out, he went back to pick up the note. As soon as he read it, he understood why the consulting criminal reacted the way he did. 

_Enjoy your paternity leave. Consider this a sneak preview of what’s to come, though I think the babies may require a bigger box._

 

To Be Continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	61. Paternity Leave – Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is shaken up by the latest threat from his and Seb’s stalker(s).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Get your ass in here NOW!” Sebastian barked into his phone. “If I don’t see you standing in front of me within the next two minutes, I’ll come out there and introduce you to my .44 Magnum.” At that, he ended the call.

“Wha…” Jim mumbled, his eyes fluttering open as he regained consciousness on the living room couch. “Tiger?”

The sniper rushed to his spouse’s side.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“Sore.”

“That’s probably because you hit the floor when you passed out. But don’t worry, you didn’t land on your stomach. I think your tailbone bore the brunt of it.”

The consulting criminal hissed as he attempted to sit up. “You’re right. The pain is radiating through my back.”

“I’m so sorry, Magpie.”   

“It’s not your fault.”

Jim caught wind of the putrid smell that still lingered in the air. Suddenly, everything came flooding back to him. The unmarked package. The rotted swine parts. The note.

Dear god, the note. He was so horrified by it, his body entered into some kind of shock. His vision went bleary and his knees buckled beneath him. Before he had time to process what was happening, he was out cold.

DING. DONG.

The doorbell chimed and Seb moved to answer it. A uniformed security guard stood in front of him. The assassin didn’t bother with a formal greeting. Instead, he growled and roughly yanked the man inside.

“What’s your name?” Moran demanded.

“Jeff,” he answered.

“And how long have you been here today, Jeff?”

“Since 9 a.m., sir. My shift is almost over.”

“So all day, then?”

“Yes, sir.”

As soon as Seb heard the confirmation, he reeled his arm back and swung. His closed fist made contact with the guard’s face, landing a blow that would surely produce a nasty black eye. 

“Let me show you something,” he said with a snarl. The furious alpha grabbed Jeff by his arm and forced him to view the gruesome contents of the mystery box.

“Oh god,” the man uttered in revulsion. “What the fuck is that?”

“It’s a fetal pig whose parts— organs included— have been disassembled and left to decay,” Sebastian matter-of-factly replied. “There’s no postage on the package, which means it didn’t come through the mail. Someone had to have dropped this off personally. I’d like to know who the HELL it was and why you didn’t stop them dead in their tracks.”

The guard appeared very confused. “No…that’s not possible. I’ve been here for 8 hours and no one delivered anything.”

Moran slugged him again, this time in the gut. He doubled over, gasping for breath.

“Obviously, your statement is incorrect. Someone _did_ deliver this today. So either you’re lying because you or someone you know is responsible, or you’re just flat-out fucking incompetent and missed the perpetrator completely. Which is it? Both are bad, but for different reasons.”

“I didn’t see anyone, I swear!” the man insisted.

“Going with option two, then? I suppose that’s the safer route, but don’t think you’re getting off scot-free.”

Seb kneed the guard in the groin, causing him to drop to the ground like a sack of bricks. “You’re fucking fired,” he declared. “Oh, and before I forget—” the sniper knelt down and confiscated the gun that was concealed inside Jeff’s jacket. “You won’t be needing this.”

The man began to slowly crawl away. He wasn’t moving fast enough for Sebastian.

“Let me help you with that,” Moran offered. But rather than lend a hand, he opened the front door and literally kicked Jeff out, slamming and locking the entrance behind him.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” the blonde muttered.

Meanwhile, Jim stared at his mate, transfixed. “Tiger, you were amaaaaazing.”

Seb shrugged. “I did what I had to do. Simple as that.”

“I know, but you were so forceful and commanding. Seeing you in action like that…I’d almost forgotten how much it turned me on.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Moriarty’s libido was on high alert.

The former colonel smirked, taking a seat close to his husband on the couch. “You like it when I’m fierce, huh?”

“Always,” he lustfully proclaimed.

Their eyes locked as Seb ran a hand along the mastermind’s inner thigh. “It did feel satisfying, being able to channel my energy into something I’m so good at.” His fingers inched their way up to the bulge between Jim’s legs. He was hard.

“Oh, yes, honey. You’re verrrrrry good at it.”

Moran stroked the Irishman’s erection through the fabric of his pants. “I don’t think it was enough, though. I beat someone up a bit, sure. But you know how it is…once you take a taste, you want _more_ ,” he said seductively.

“I get it. I dooooooo.”

“I wish I had something— or maybe, _someone_ — else to focus on. To really _pound_.”

Jim grunted, coming undone at his mate’s use of talk and touch. “Pound me,” he volunteered. “I can’t move much with this backache, but that’s okay. I don’t have to get up. We can do it right here.”

Sebastian unceremoniously removed his hand from Jim’s throbbing manhood and stood up. “Sorry, kitten, but I’ve got to go. There’s work to be done.”

The look on Moriarty’s face was priceless. “What?! No! I demand that you stay here and fuck me! That’s an order.”

“An order? You’re off duty. Paternity leave and all,” Seb reminded while flashing a huge, sharky grin.

“Bollocks that! You’ll damn well do what I tell you to,” the frustrated genius fumed.

“You’re not the only one who can be a cock tease, darling. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to review the security footage and see who delivered that revolting package.”

“Wait!” Jim called out before his alpha could leave. “At least bring me my dinner.”

The assassin was not unreasonable. He did as Moriarty requested, serving him the Italian takeout and helping him into an upright position.

Rather than thank his partner, the consulting criminal glared at the larger man. “Willfully giving a pregnant omega blue balls,” he spat. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

“Now you know how I felt earlier, when we were in your office.”

“That was different.”  

“How so?”

“Because,” he began, quickly trailing off as he realized he didn’t have a good answer.

“Because what, dear? I’m waiting.” Sebastian knew he was pressing his luck, and he enjoyed every minute of it. He was the only person who could get away with talking to Jim so cheekily. 

“Because I’m pregnant and you’re not!” the mastermind huffed. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m growing not one, but _two_ human beings inside my own body.”

“And that makes it okay to rev me up and then send me out the door?”

“Yes! Maybe. No…I don’t know.” Jim was a confused mess of hormones and emotions, and this conversation was doing nothing to improve his disposition.

But Seb knew where to draw the line. He didn’t truly want to upset his husband, just engage in a bit of ribbing.

Leaning down, the sniper kissed the top of Moriarty’s head. He noted that his hair felt very soft and smelled lovely. “No hard feelings, Magpie. You know I love you.”

“Yeah, Seb. I do.” The Irishman paused for a moment. “I want to see the surveillance recording, too.”

“Are you sure? I thought it might be less stressful for you if I did it alone.”

“Sebastian, this son of a bitch is overtly threatening the lives of my—” he stopped, correcting himself, “of _our_ children. So you’d best believe I want to see it for myself.”

“Okay. I’ll bring the recordings out here and we can watch them together.”

“I appreciate it, Tiger.”

The formidable blonde went to fetch the day’s surveillance logs. With any luck, it would provide some much sought-after clues.

*********

“This is insane.” Seb had reviewed a particular portion of the security footage over a dozen times, and he still couldn’t accept what he was looking at.

A drone. A goddamn drone had dropped the package on their doorstep.

Jim was beyond angry. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go!” he shouted. “There was meant to be a person caught on camera! Someone we could identify and destroy. NOT. A. FUCKING. ROBOT!”

Ordinarily, Moran would attempt to calm the genius down. Right now, though, he was just as irate as his mate. There was no way to sugarcoat or suppress the frustration that burned through them both.

“This explains why the guard didn’t see anyone,” Seb remarked. There really _hadn’t_ been a deliveryman per se— the box arrived from above. “If we were to bake Jeff a basket of muffins, do you think he might agree to come back?” the assassin bitterly joked. Gallows humor was all he could muster.  

But Moriarty could not bid himself to laugh. He rapidly turned his rage inward, retreating to a dark place deep inside. It was a void he’d existed in for years prior to being liberated from its grips by Sebastian, his love and his light.

Jim sat on the couch for a long while, utterly listless. Finally, he spoke. “Help me to the bedroom.”

“Sure, honey.”

Like any good alpha, Seb assisted his achy, expectant omega up the stairs. He aided him in changing out of a finely tailored suit and into something more comfortable. At first, he reached for a silken pair of black pajamas, but then decided on a different choice of loungewear for his mate.

Jim remained quiet as Moran rifled through a shopping bag hidden in the closet. When the sniper reemerged, he was holding a festive set of flannel nightclothes.

“I bought these as a Christmas present for you, but I think it’d be okay to try them out early.” He was determined to infuse some light into his husband’s starless sky.

The smaller man said nothing as he was eased into holiday-themed paternity jammies. They were very cute, featuring the ‘Peanuts’ character Snoopy printed on them.

“Sweetheart, you look adorable. I’m going to guide you over to the mirror so you can see for yourself, okay?”

Jim nodded, but was still awash in a haze of melancholy. He walked slowly and with a heavy step, as though his feet were weighed down by an invisible force. Eventually, they came to stand in front of a full-length mirror.

“See, kitten? It’s a wealth of whimsy.” The former colonel spoke in an upbeat tone, hoping it might rub off on Jim.

 _No response,_ he noted. His partner wouldn’t even acknowledge his own reflection, instead staring downward at the carpet.

“When I was a little boy, I used to think Snoopy was the absolute coolest. I had his doll, bedsheets, lunchbox…everything. And don’t tell anyone, but I also kept a Snoopy nightlight until the age of ten. Severin teased me mercilessly about it, but I didn’t care, because I loved that little dog. He made me happy and nothing else mattered.” Moran paused, eyeing his morose Magpie. “I thought maybe he’d have a similar effect on you. Guess it was a longshot.”

Sebastian began to turn away, when suddenly a hand reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Tiger,” the mastermind whispered, “don’t go.” He slowly looked up, glimpsing his reflection at last. His dark eyes widened as he took in the sight of himself. “Bloody hell.”

The assassin chuckled softly. Now this was more in line with how he’d imagined Jim reacting. Embarrassed and appalled, perhaps, but none of that silent business.

“I suppose I don’t have to ask what you think of your new PJs.”

“Actually, they’re not half bad. There’s a kitschy sort of charm to them.” A small smile graced Moriarty’s face, which was better than Seb had anticipated.  

“Really? You don’t want to set the outfit ablaze?”

“How could I, after you so fondly recounted how much the beagle means to you?” he replied with a wink.

“It’s a relief to hear you say that, because, well…there was a sale going on when I bought the pajamas. Buy an adult set and get a matching baby-size version at half price.” Moran retrieved the shopping bag from the closet and pulled another article of clothing out of it. In his hand, he held a tiny Christmas-themed Snoopy onesie.

Jim’s expression lit up like a sunrise and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a coo and a trill— a signal of intense omega joy. “Sebby, this is soooooo precious!”

“Yes, that’s why I had to have it. However, it occurred to me after the fact that by the time the twins are born, the holiday motif will be outdated.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “But I don’t give a toss. I’ll dress them in it anyway. It’s too sweet to go to waste.”

“Too sweet to go to waste? Hmm. That description could also apply to a certain someone I know.” Seb pulled his mate close, resting a hand on the Irishman’s midsection. He could feel their children beating back at his touch. “The kiddos are feisty tonight.”

“They’re feisty every night, trust me on that.”

“Good. I want them to be full of sass and sophistication like their daddy.”

The consulting criminal breathed in sharply as a particularly strong kick came from within. “I believe they’re trying to tell you that you’ve got your wish.”

A broad grin spread across the sniper’s face. “Oh, Magpie, I love our family.” Despite outside attempts to dampen his spirit, he was happy. “I’ll protect you and our little ones, I promise.”

“I’ll protect them, too,” Moriarty vowed. “Our children will be guarded more heavily than Fort Knox. I’m even planning to have a Kevlar baby carriage built.”

“Kevlar, huh? I like the way you think.”

“Mmm…in that case, can you figure out what else is on my mind right now?” He punctuated his inquiry by slipping a stray hand onto Sebastian’s firm backside.

“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” he answered. The dashing blonde had previously sworn to give Jim a night of passion and he intended to keep his word.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but be gentle, Tiger. I’ve got a lot of aches and pains, and I don’t want to put too much stress on my belly.”

“No whips, restraints, or weighted devices. Understood.”

“When you put it like that, it makes it sound so boooooring.”

“Never, Jimmy,” he declared while carefully lowering his beloved onto the soft, cushioned surface of their bed. “We could never be boring, darling. Not in any way, shape, or form.”

Moriarty contemplated Seb’s statement. “You raise a compelling point. If _we_ were boring, then by association, it would mean _I_ was boring, too. Obviously, that’s an impossibility. So your premise must be correct. We can never be boring because I can never be boring.”

“Kitten? Quit blathering and kiss me already.”

Jim was more than eager to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	62. The Baby Shower – Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s baby shower day, and the event is almost set to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains some disturbing imagery. Reader discretion is advised. 
> 
> ******************************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

A few days had passed since Jim received his gruesome paternity gift, and he was not doing well. He put on a brave face, but Sebastian saw through the guise. His mate was tense and uneasy, and had twice awoken screaming in the night. Though he refused to discuss the content of his dreams, Seb swore he’d mumbled something about ‘the babies.’

Speaking of their children, some changes were made regarding the surprise baby shower. Moran lobbied to have the party date pushed up because he thought it might brighten Jim’s spirits. The request put additional stress on the ladies organizing the event, but ultimately, they rose to the occasion and managed to pull everything together on an abbreviated deadline.

Today was it. Gemma and Annie had just arrived to set up for the shindig, while Jim, as anticipated, remained blissfully unaware in bed. All seemed fine at first, but one member of the coordinating crew was absent.

“I haven’t been able to get ahold of Marie for a day and a half,” Gemma complained. “She was supposed to help us run the show, so to speak. It’s not like her to go MIA. I don’t know what happened.”

Seb frowned. He’d actually received a text from Marie two days ago, stating that she needed to talk to him. He replied back, but never got another message from the woman. He figured she was just busy planning the shower, but now he wondered if there was more to it than that. If she was still incommunicado tomorrow, he’d send someone to her house to check up on her.

“Mr. Moran, I hate to be a bother, but in light of our missing assistant, do you think you could aid us with a couple of things? The hors d'oeuvres and cake are in a cooler in my van,” Annie noted. “It would be a huge help if you’d bring those in while Gemma and I rig up the banners and balloons.”

“Yeah, I can do that. And if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to mention it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Seb would do whatever was necessary to ensure that this party went off without a hitch.

*********

It was 1 o’clock in the afternoon when Ian showed up. At that point, half the guest list was already there— Gemma, Annie, and Sebastian, respectively.

“Hey,” the young man greeted. “Am I early?” he asked, noticing there was hardly anyone in attendance.

“No,” Seb answered, taking the gift box Ian walked in with and setting it aside for later. “We’re keeping this a small affair.”

“Ah, okay. I guess I should feel honored that, of all people, you decided to invite me.”

“Well, I considered including your whole MOPS group, but it seemed like it might be overkill. Of the bunch, I think you’re the only one he’d really want here.”

“That’s actually kind of sweet.” The teen took a cursory look around. “This is a beautiful home you’ve got. Where’s the man of the hour?”

“He’s still in bed. It’s been a rough week for him since going on paternity leave.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Ian paused as his stomach growled loudly. “Got anything to eat? I skipped breakfast today.”

Gemma overheard the remark. “We have a variety of finger foods in the kitchen,” she warmly informed. “Let me show you. We can take a look at the cake, too, if you’d like. No cutting it until we’re at least midway through the festivities, though.”

“Understood,” he said, following the woman as she led the way.

Moran turned to Annie. “I really hope this party perks Jim up.”

“I think it will. Who can resist a bit of revelry?”

“Not me, but my mate can be stubborn.” When dealing with office staff, Seb now openly acknowledged what he and Jim were to each other. After the sex tape circulated across headquarters, it seemed pointless to deny their relationship.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what’s got Mr. Moriarty so upset? Pregnancy is usually a very happy time for an omega.”

“He’s mostly happy, it’s just that he’s been under a lot of stress lately. It’s taken a toll.”

“Well then, let’s do our best to make sure he has fun today.” 

“Believe me, I intend to.”

She nodded. “When should we get this party started?”

“Soon. I’m mainly waiting for Gemma’s cousin to arrive. Once everyone’s here, we can begin,” the sniper stated. “Besides, Jim could use the rest. He hasn’t slept well these past few nights, so I don’t want to wake him until it’s absolutely necessary.”

“You’re a thoughtful man, Mr. Moran. They don’t make alphas like you anymore.”

He smiled, slightly embarrassed to be receiving such praise. “You’re too kind, Annie.”

“Nah, I just call it as I see it,” she said with a wink.

Seb was silent for a moment, feeling a strange twinge of déjà vu. He couldn’t place why or how the sense had come over him— it was simply there.

“Is something the matter, sir? You got awfully quiet.”

“I’m fine. It’s just that when you winked, it was…familiar.”

She furrowed a brow. “Hmm. Well, you’ve probably seen me do it at work.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“I’m sure that’s it,” the woman insisted. “I’ve been told I can be quite animated at times.”

The sniper was about to reply when, out of the blue, screams erupted from the bedroom. Without another word, Seb made a mad dash for his spouse.

_I’m coming, love._

*********

_White. Everything was bright, blinding white._

_Jim blinked, taking in his utterly sterile surroundings. It appeared to be a hospital and he was lying in a bed. When he attempted to get up, it became clear that he was strapped down and couldn’t move._

_A million things raced through his head— where is this place? Why am I here? Who restrained me? One question in particular rose to the surface above the rest: Where is my husband?_

_His sweet Sebastian would never allow him to be locked up in a facility like this. He must’ve been taken without the assassin’s knowledge._

_Moriarty wasn’t given much time to contemplate the situation, as the door to the room swung open. In walked a truly bizarre sight. A man dressed in black and wearing a ‘plague doctor’ mask approached him. He carried a bag of surgical instruments that he sat on an end table near the bed. When he pulled out a large cutting tool, Jim found his voice._

_“What are you doing?” the genius demanded. “Who do you work for?”_

_The ominous figure did not respond, instead continuing to line up various scalpels and implements in a row._

_“How dare you ignore me! You’ll tell me who you are!”_

_But yelling didn’t help, and the shrouded physician remained mute._

_Jim was horrified by the realization that he wore only a paper-thin hospital gown. It afforded no protection when the masked man proceeded to uncover him._

_His thoughts immediately went to his children. He was supposed to keep them safe. Shield them from danger. Yet it became obvious that this ‘doctor’ meant to do harm._

_The mastermind screamed bloody murder as a sharp blade sliced into his abdomen. He quickly realized that a caesarean section was being performed without his consent._

_“No!” he shouted in pained desperation._

_The twins were viciously ripped from his body and handed to a faceless nurse who’d materialized out of nowhere. He wasn’t permitted to see them or hold them. All he could do was listen to their cries._

_“Give them to me! Please! They need their mother,” he pled, abandoning the pretense of his own gender identity and admitting what he was to his children._

_Covered in birthing fluids, the wailing newborns were placed on a cold metal table where Jim could now view them, but do nothing more._

_“They need to be cleaned off and swaddled! You can’t just leave them like that!”_

_Oh, how he ached to comfort his babies. To wrap them in soft, warm blankets and rock them until they were settled and serene. To show them that they were loved completely and unconditionally._

_Jim’s heart pounded wildly as he watched the plague doctor approach his littles ones with a large scalpel in hand._

_“No! God, no! Please don’t hurt them!” the Irishman begged, tears streaming down his face. “Do whatever you want to me…I know I deserve it. But NOT them! They’re innocent!”_

_He struggled violently to break free from his bindings, but it was no use. The straps refused to break, and the masked madman sunk his blade into tender infant flesh. His children’s agonized cries would haunt him forever._

 

 

“Jim! Jimmy! It’s okay,” Sebastian assured, sitting beside his hysterical mate. The consulting criminal was slowly awakening.

“My babies,” he gasped.

“It was just a bad dream. The babies are safe and so are you.”

“Huh? Sebby?” His voice was sad and confused as he tried to regain his bearings.

“I’m here, hon. No worries.” The sniper soothingly ran his fingers through Jim’s sleep-tousled hair.

Moriarty sat up and hugged his stomach, making sure that Essie and Eddie were still housed inside him. A rush of emotions flooded through the mastermind when he felt them kick. He was relieved that the twins had not been harmed, but still felt terror over the images wreaking havoc in his head.

“Oh Tiger, this was the worst one yet.”

“I’m sorry you’re having such terrible nightmares,” Seb said, taking Jim into his strong, protective arms. “I know you haven’t wanted to discuss what happens in them, but sometimes talking about these things takes their power away. Do you understand what I mean, sweetheart?”

“I do,” he shakily replied. “It just…it hurts to even say the words.”

“Keeping it bottled up will only bring you more pain in the long run,” Moran noted. “I’ve told you before that you can share anything with me, and I stand by my vow. I’ll always listen. Always be there to help.”

The dark-eyed genius stared somberly at his spouse. He took a deep breath and began to recount the distressing dream as best he could. “In my nightmare, I was tied down to a hospital bed and a ‘surgeon,’ if you could call him that, came in dressed as a plague doctor. The bastard cut me open and took our children from me. Tore them right out. And then…” Jim stopped, overcome by the awful memory of what occurred next. “He tortured them, Seb. Vivisected newborn babies! It was horrific. I’ll never forget their screams.” 

“Dear God, that’s ghastly.” The former colonel clasped Moriarty’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Take comfort in the knowledge that it wasn’t real. Our little ones are healthy and thriving. We won’t let anyone harm them, not ever.”

Jim nodded, summoning whatever strength he could. “That’s right. Those who so much as look at them funny will be made into shoes.”

“Amen,” Sebastian agreed, giving the smaller man’s hand a squeeze for good measure.

“Darling?”

“Yes?”

“The yelling hurt my throat. Be a doll and make me some herbal tea.”

“Sure.” Moran was hoping for a way ‘out,’ and this would do fine. He needed to get back to the living room and see if the final party guest had arrived. “I’ll be back soon,” the assassin promised as he stood up and exited their sleeping quarters.

When he returned to the main area of the house, he saw that Annie was waiting with a concerned expression on her face.

“Is Mr. Moriarty okay?” she asked.

“He’s all right, just a bit shaken up from a dream. I’m going to brew him some tea.”

“Sounds sensible. Hot beverages have a way of calming one down. I could do with an Irish coffee myself,” she joked.

Seb smirked. “You and me both.”

A few minutes passed, and by that time Gemma and Ian had brought several hors d'oeuvre trays into the living room. Bottles of sparkling cider were also present, chilling on ice as if it was actual champagne. The refreshments display, combined with the decorative ‘Congratulations’ banner and balloons, made for an inviting atmosphere.

DING. DONG.

HISSS. HISSS.

The doorbell chimed and the kettle whistled almost simultaneously. Moran went to the kitchen while Gemma answered the door.

As Seb tended to the tea, he could hear the meet-and-greet going on in the next room. Though he was unable to make out what was being said, there was a familiarity to the sound of the guest’s voice. Curious, he decided to pop in and introduce himself like a proper host before bringing the tea up to Jim.

“Good afternoon,” he gregariously spoke. “Thank you for com—”

The woman turned around, and Sebastian stopped dead in his tracks, nearly dropping the porcelain cup he carried. Now he knew why he recognized the voice.

It belonged to Molly Hooper.

 

To Be Continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	63. The Baby Shower – Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is caught off guard by some surprise guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian was speechless, just staring at Molly. She appeared equally flabbergasted. Their reactions to each other did not go unnoticed by the rest of the guests.

“Is something wrong?” Gemma asked in confusion.

Neither uttered a word, they simply continued to stare.

Another woman came walking up behind Molly, carrying a gift bag. This time, when Seb saw who it was, he _did_ drop Jim’s cup of tea.  

Irene Adler stood in the doorway.

“Oh dear!” Annie exclaimed. “I’ll clean it.” She hastily headed to the kitchen for paper towels, returning with a brand new roll to sop up the mess.

Spilt tea was the least of Moran’s worries. _Maybe Jim isn’t the only one having nightmares,_ he thought. Surely, this couldn’t really be happening. He would wake up any moment now. He’d wake up and—

“What the HELL are these _bitches_ doing in my home?! Sebastian, you’ve got some serious explaining to do!”

 _Fuck._ Moriarty was standing right behind him. _Must’ve gotten impatient and decided to come down._

“Somebody had better start talking NOW.” He spoke in a sharp tone that often instilled fear into ordinary people’s hearts.

“Gemma,” Molly began, “you questioned if something was wrong. Allow me to state unequivocally that, yes, something is _very_ wrong. The fact that James Moriarty lives is an affront to decency itself.”

“Oh, shut up you cow,” the genius spat. “This is _my_ house and I demand to know what you and Adler are doing here. If I don’t get an answer soon, bones will be broken, and no, that’s _not_ an idle threat.”

“Jim, I’m as shocked as you are," Seb asserted. "Honestly, I didn’t know Molly and Irene were coming. I never would’ve invited them.”

“And I never would’ve shown up if I’d known the party was for him!” a flummoxed Ms. Hooper insisted.

The consulting criminal glared ominously. “What’s this business about a party?” He looked around, observing the décor. “The banners and balloons. The hors d'oeuvres. Why?”

“It’s a baby shower…for you,” the sniper admitted. “Some of the ladies from work wanted to throw it and I agreed. It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Well, mission accomplished, soldier. Who else should I be expecting? Did the Holmes clan score an invite? Perhaps you’ve arranged for Eurus to get a day pass just for the occasion?”

“I told you, I didn’t invite them! You want the truth? Fine. I’ll give it to you,” Seb said, sounding exasperated. “You don’t have many close friends, so in order to increase the guest list, Gemma asked her cousin to come. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, so I okayed it. But I had no idea her relative was Molly Hooper.”

Jim was quiet for a moment, processing the new information. He turned, setting his sights on the party planner.

“Gemmmma, please explain to me what the _fuck_ you were thinking. And know that if you’re lying, I’ll skiiiiiiiin you.”

“I didn’t realize there’d be a problem with it, sir. I was unaware you knew each other.”

Moriarty arched a brow. “We dated,” he declared. “She never mentioned it?”

“No, sir.”

The mastermind shot Molly a glance of stunned disbelief. “Seriously, Mol?”

“Why would I?” she retorted. “It wasn’t exactly a high point in my life, and besides, it was all a con anyway.”

“True, but I pulled off one hell of a performance. That should count for something.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

He snorted. “Honey, I’m just telling it like it is. Pretending to be interested in you was no small feat.”

“She’s moved on to better prospects,” Irene interjected.

Jim scowled at the dominatrix. “Still waiting to learn why you’re here, Adler.”

“I asked her to accompany me,” Molly answered. “When my cousin told me she was throwing a baby shower for a male omega with no friends, I felt sorry for the guy. I thought that if I brought my girlfriend along, it would add to the number of attendees, which in turn, might make him feel less alone. This was a _kindness_ ,” she stressed. “You, the once great ‘Napoleon of Crime,’ have become little more than a charity case.”

The room grew silent enough to hear a pin drop as the formerly mousy pathologist’s words hung in the air. Jim had not anticipated such harsh sentiments to spew forth from the likes of Molly Hooper. Evidently, she was no longer the meek woman he remembered.

“What, no clever comeback? You’re losing your touch.”

“That’s enough, Molly!” the assassin warned. “I’ll not have anyone disrespect my husband in our home.”

Suddenly, Jim felt very unnerved. Seb shouldn’t have to be defending him, especially not to Molly, of all people. What was he doing, allowing _her_ to speak to him like that? James Moriarty didn’t permit such insolence. He’d smack her clear across the face. Wrap his fingers around that pretty little neck of hers until she had no breath left to backtalk him with. She’d dare not cross him again after he was done.

But now, things were different. He had to stop and consider the situations he put himself into. Think of the impact it might have on his unborn children. A physical altercation could yield consequences, however slight. He refused to endanger their lives.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Jim’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. It was rapid and erratic, and it became difficult to breathe. He needed to get out of there before things escalated further.

The mastermind bolted from the living room as fast as he could. He retreated to his office, locking the door behind him. At least in there, he’d be able to break down in private.

*********

“Jimmy, please. If you don’t want to come out, fine. But let me in. I’d prefer that we speak face-to-face rather than through a door.”

“I don’t know, Seb. You might try dragging me out.”

“I won’t drag you anywhere, I promise.”

The nervous omega took a deep breath, still trying to calm himself. With a jittery hand, he unlocked the door to allow his mate inside.

Moran entered as soon as he heard the latch click open. When he got a look at Jim, he saw that the Irishman was worse for wear. He was balled up on the floor, sporting mussed hair and red-rimmed eyes.

The sniper crouched down to sit beside him. “Hey, it’s okay, love.”

“No, Sebastian, it’s really not.”

“Are you upset because of what Molly said? Don’t listen to her. She’s a fool.”

“Yes, but even a stopped clock is right twice a day.”

Seb peered at him quizzically. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean she may be a nitwit, but she wasn’t wrong about everything. I’ve got no friends. Burned too many bridges through the years, and now I’m reaping what I’ve sown. You could barely scrape together a half dozen guests. It’s pathetic,” he hissed.

“It’s _not_ pathetic,” the blonde reassured. “You’re just very particular about who you allow into your inner circle. You won’t befriend every bloke you meet. A person has to be worthy of your companionship.”

“Most people I’ve met have been dreadfully disappointing,” he conceded. “So ordinary.”

“Exactly. Your standards are higher than most. You’re a connoisseur. Quality wins out over quantity every time.”

“Maybe.”

“No ‘maybes’ about it. It’s the truth.”

Jim sighed, growing silent for a moment. “Oh, Sebby. I’m sorry. You helped organize an event for me, and here I am, hiding away like a petulant child.”

“It’s fine, hon. Given the surprise guests we received, I don’t blame you for being upset.”

“I’m not sure I can go back out there.”

“If you truly don’t want to, I won’t force you,” the assassin spoke. “But bear in mind that Gemma, Annie, and Marie worked hard to put this party together under a rushed deadline. Not to mention there’s games, gifts, and cake awaiting.”

Moriarty’s expression piqued. “Can we skip the games and go straight to gifts? I don’t feel much like playing right now, but I could do with opening some prezzies.”

“We can do anything you desire, dear. This baby shower is in honor of you and the twins. Whatever you say goes.”

The consulting criminal smiled. “Let me freshen up a bit and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Sounds good to me.” Seb rose to his feet, helping Jim stand as well.

“Thanks, Tiger.” He hesitated for a beat, pondering something Moran had said. “Darling, you mentioned that Marie helped coordinate this party, correct?”

“Yeah, it was a team effort.”

“That’s nice, but where is she? I saw Gemma and Annie here, but not her.”

Sebastian frowned. “No one’s been able to get ahold of Marie. She seems to have recently gone MIA,” he informed. “I’m sending someone over to her house to check on her tomorrow.”

A shiver ran down Jim’s spine. He paled, flashing back to the fate of his missing interior decorator. “You don’t think something could’ve happened to her like with Lisa, do you?”

“I hope not. Two days ago, she texted me saying she wanted to tell me something. After that, I didn’t hear any more from her.”

“Perhaps someone decided to shut her up,” Jim suggested.

“Can’t rule it out, I suppose.”

The Irishman grumbled. “It’s all very curious. Do keep me posted on whatever’s found at her house.”

“Of course.” As Seb was about to exit the room, he turned back for an instant, planting a surprise kiss on Jim’s lips.

“Ooh, Tiger, that was lovely.”

“Wouldn’t want to forsake tradition,” he quipped, pointing up at the mistletoe that hung in the doorway. “There’s a potential kiss around every corner, kitten.”

“Mmm, yes. Quite literally.”

Moran smirked. “That, my sweet, was a small parting gift. I’ll see you when you return to the festivities.”

The mastermind wistfully watched his partner leave.

Now it was time to get ready. Jim would head to his walk-in closet and select the perfect outfit for the occasion. He wasn’t sure what that ensemble might be, but he’d know it when he saw it.

 

 

To Be Continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have ideas for Jim's baby shower outfit. It's going to be a hoot ;-)


	64. The Baby Shower – Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party continues and Jim is excited to open gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Hiiiiiiii!” Jim announced as he sashayed his way into the living room, making a grand entrance.

All eyes were intently fixed on him, not because he was the guest of honor, but because of what he was wearing. The consulting criminal had decided to dress in a carnation pink velvet suit paired with a Victorian-style white ruffle shirt. The pants clearly didn’t fit— they were unzipped, fastened together at the buttonhole via an elastic hair tie— and the matching jacket wouldn’t close, either. To complete the outlandish look, he sported a bejeweled crown.

 _Oh dear god._ Sebastian couldn’t believe his mate’s choice of wardrobe. He’d expected him to change out of his pajamas, certainly, but into this? _Bloody hell._

While everyone else attempted to stifle their reactions, Irene did not hold back. The woman’s laughter was irrepressible.

Seb shot her a steely glare in an attempt to silence her. It didn’t work. In fact, her snickers proved infectious as Molly began giggling, too.

“Ladieeeeeees,” Jim sang out, addressing the duo, “it’s nice to see that even soulless shrews like you can crack a smile every now and then.”

“I can’t take all the credit,” Adler quipped, undaunted by his insult. “When one’s host is cosplaying as the lovechild of Liberace and an Easter egg, the amusement flows almost involuntarily.”

“Sweetheart, if Liberace were alive today, he’d wish he looked as good as me.”

“Sebastian,” she spoke, glancing at Moran, “perhaps you ought to give your omega a once-over. I suspect he’s suffering from some form of pregnancy-induced delirium.”

“Now, now, Irene, let’s not—”

Before Jim could finish his snarky remark, the sniper pulled him away from the woman and out of earshot of the other guests.

“Hey! What’s the big idea?” Moriarty groused.

“I’m checking to see if you’re in your right mind. What the hell are you wearing?”

“A snazzy ensemble I picked up during last year’s Fashion Week in Paris. You must remember this— I wore it on Valentine’s Day.”

“Actually, now that you mention it, yeah, I do. But why are you wearing it here and now? You’ve got plenty of finely tailored paternity clothes. Why choose something that blatantly doesn’t fit?”

“Because I _like_ this suit,” he answered, sounding a tad bit annoyed by his husband’s questioning. “It’s got flair, and that’s what I’m trying to exemplify. Now, if you’re through interrogating me, I have a party to enjoy.”

Moriarty returned to the group, whistling to get their attention.

“Wellllllcome to my baby shower, one and all! We’re going to skip straight to the prezzies,” he declared. “If anybody’s got a problem with that, you know where the door is. Otherwise, I invite you to take a load off and gather ‘round.” He turned to Seb. “Darling, fetch my gifts. I want to open them in here on the recliner.”

“Sure thing, love.” Moran dutifully retrieved the boxes and bags that had amassed in the corner of the room.

 _It’s going to be a long day,_ he thought to himself. But if it made his Magpie happy, it would be worth it. Right?

*********

“Whose haven’t I opened yet?” Jim asked, trying to keep track of everything he’d been bestowed so far.

“Just mine and your husband’s,” Ian stated. “Truthfully, I’m rather nervous, having to follow after the wonderful stuff everyone else brought.”

Indeed, it was quite a haul. Annie had gifted him a set of designer cashmere onesies, Gemma gave him two luxury infant car seats that featured heated cushions, and Molly and Irene offered up a dual gift of a ‘Hello Kitty’ baby monitor and nightlight. Though he’d never admit it, Moriarty secretly thought the cartoon-themed items were adorable.

“Whatever’s in this box, I already know it’s going to be _awesome_.” Grinning gleefully, the mastermind tore away the wrapping paper and sliced through the packaging tape. Inside was a supply of baby formula and an accompanying set of bottles.

“It isn’t anything fancy because I’m still getting my bearings financially. So I’m sorry it’s not a very posh gift, but at least it’s practical,” the young man explained.

“I appreciate it. It’s quite sensible. The babies will need to eat, after all.”

 _Eat._ The word made Jim think about the cake he was promised. He wasn’t certain what kind it was, but that didn’t much matter. He enjoyed many varieties— all except for those disgusting candied fruit and nut concoctions that were inexplicably popular during the holiday season.

 _If it’s one of those,_ he thought, _someone’s losing digits._ And he didn’t mean he’d delete their number from his phone. No, if there was a fruitcake waiting for him in that refrigerator, those responsible would be losing actual fingers and toes.

“Mine’s the final one,” Seb noted, handing him an elegant gift box.

“Saved the best for last,” Jim said, returning to his senses after having been temporarily sidetracked by daydreams of dessert.

“Best? I don’t know if I’d go that far, but I do hope you like it.”

The Irishman smiled softly. “So humble, my gallant soldier.” He made short work of opening the present, squealing with excitement when he saw what it was.

“A baby sling! Oh, Tiger, this is delightful!” He’d wanted one for ages, but hadn’t gotten around to making the purchase.

“It’s a special model designed to carry two babies at once. I thought maybe you could use it when taking the twins out to the park or the store, or anywhere, really.”

“I’m envisioning it already. Thank you, love.” Jim leaned over to kiss his mate.

“Well, now that we’ve finished with the gifts, who wants cake?” Gemma asked, eager to make up for her guest list blunder.

“Wild horses couldn’t stop me from taking a taste. Come on, darling. I’m going to cut the first piece,” Moriarty declared.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“Ooh, ‘Your Majesty.’ I like that.”

“It’s fitting, seeing as how you’ve got the crown.”

“It _is_ a spectacular accessory, I must admit. Really brings out my eyes, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” Seb agreed. “Gives them an extra sparkle.”

“I know you’re just humoring me now, but I’m in such a good mood, I don’t care.”

The pair continued chattering back and forth as they proceeded to the kitchen. Gemma was already in there prepping the plates and silverware, and Annie excused herself outside for a smoke break. Molly, Irene, and Ian were the only partygoers left in the living room.

“Who was that lovesick fop and what has he done with James Moriarty?” Irene quipped. She’d observed him and Seb briefly during their encounter in Monte Carlo, but now, having spent more time in their company, she was astonished at how different he seemed. The man who’d once projected nothing but cruelty and malice now radiated with a warmth that could not be denied. Though still snarky and eccentric, he was also surprisingly upbeat, bordering on cheerful.

“I know,” Molly replied. “I’ve never seen him so genuinely happy before. It’s bizarre.”

“I think it’s because of the babies,” Ian commented.

Both women peered at him, neither clear as to who he was.

“Pardon me?” the pathologist inquired.

“The babies make Jim happy,” he reiterated. “I’ve only known him for a short while, but that much is obvious. He really loves them and his husband does, too. They’re excited about expanding their family.”

“Interesting,” Irene remarked. “Who might you be and how do you know Jim?”

“I’m Ian. I first met him through a pregnancy support group, and now I work at his office.”

“Moriarty attended a support group? I don’t believe it.”

“Not ‘attended’— he participates in the present tense. We’re a community and we help each other,” the omega informed. “Jim’s got an infamous reputation, but he’s been nothing but kind to me.”

“Hmm.” Molly bore a pensive expression as she contemplated Ian’s statement. “I just can’t picture him being a parent. The very notion is absurd. But,” she hesitated, “he _did_ seem different. The way I spoke to him on arrival…there was a time when he would’ve had my head for that. Today, though, he simply removed himself from the situation rather than come at me.”

“Ma’am,” the teenager addressed, focusing directly on Molly, “it’s not my business, but I’m curious— earlier, Jim mentioned that you and he dated. What happened with that?”

“Ugh. It was an unfortunate period of my life. I was lonely and he pretended to be someone else. Had me going for a bit, but a friend helped me see the truth.”

“So there was no real relationship there?”

She snorted. “Hardly.”

“And now the two of you are together?” he asked, referring to the woman sitting beside her.  

The ladies exchanged a playful glance, joining hands in a show of solidarity.

“Oh, yes,” Adler confirmed. “Very much so. We’ve recently begun sharing a penthouse.” 

“A penthouse? Sounds quite posh.”

“It is,” Molly chimed in. “A far sight better than my previous flat, and with greatly improved company.”

Irene smiled devilishly at the declaration. “Thank you, dear. I’m pleased by our new accommodations as well.”

The trio suddenly heard the front door open. It was Annie, coming back from outside.

“Did I miss anything?” she queried, removing her coat and gloves.

“Not especially,” Ian answered. “Half the group is still lingering in the kitchen.”

“Hmm. Perhaps I ought to pop in, too, and put on a pot of tea,” she pondered aloud. “Yes, I think I will.” Without another word, Annie headed off again.

 

 

“It’s just so hard to believe,” Jim said as he cut and plated slices of chocolate cake for everyone. “The interminably dull Molly Hooper taking up with Irene Adler. How do you suppose they met?”

Sebastian shrugged. “I’d imagine through Sherlock, but who knows? What I’m more curious about is why she made a pass at me in Monaco if she was involved with someone. I wonder if Molly’s aware of her girlfriend’s wandering ways?”

The consulting criminal nearly dropped the knife he was holding, a combination of anger and hurt flashing in his dark eyes. “She made a pass at you? Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.

“Relax, love.” Seb moved behind Moriarty, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and nuzzling his neck. “We were having such a wonderful time that day in Monte Carlo, I didn’t want to ruin it by mentioning her deluded intentions. You’re the only one for me, Magpie.”

Jim hummed contentedly at the feel of his alpha’s warm, well-built frame pressed up against him. He knew he would always be safe in his embrace; always be shielded from harm. Best of all, his children would be protected, too. He’d selected an excellent mate.

Meanwhile, Gemma stood off to the far corner, slack-jawed and horrified at what she’d heard. “Mr. Moran…Mr. Moriarty,” she spoke, “did you forget I was here? You’re talking about my cousin right in front of me!”

“Shit,” Jim muttered under his breath. He’d been so focused on what he was doing, and she’d been so quiet, he actually _did_ forget she was still there. Seb overlooked her continued presence as well. Now they needed to exercise damage control.

The mastermind turned to his employee. “Gemmmma, darling, be a sweetheart and wipe that revolting look of surprise off your face. It doesn’t suit you,” he coolly remarked. “Should you _ever_ share the details of the conversation you’ve just witnessed, there will be consequences, the likes of which you shan’t survive. And even if you did, by some miracle, persevere, the condition you’d be left in would have you begging for a swift death. Is. That. Clear?”  

“As crystal, sir.” Her tone was rightly fearful.

“Good girl.”

Soon, Annie entered the kitchen, breaking up the awkward tension that had enveloped the room.

“I’ve come to brew some tea,” the fair-haired woman announced. “What variety have you got?”

“Herbal and Earl Grey,” Moran informed. “I recommend preparing both.”

“That’s a sound idea, sir.”

She began setting out the necessary items— cups, saucers, spoons, and the like. Everything was fine until she abruptly let out a yelp.

“For helvede!” Annie exclaimed. She’d pinched her finger in the silverware drawer.

Seb rushed to her aid. “Let me see it,” he said, and she consented.

“I feel like an idiot for doing that.”

“Accidents happen,” the sniper reassured as he inspected her injured digit. “It doesn’t appear to be broken, though it may swell a bit.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I’m such a klutz sometimes.”

“Happens to the best of us.” Sebastian paused, the wheels in his head turning at a breakneck pace. “Annie, why don’t you give your finger a rest and go sit with the guests for a bit? I’ll watch the tea.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Moran? I’d hate to impose.”

“It’s no bother. Go on,” he encouraged. “And Gemma, I insist you do the same. Jim and I will take care of things.”

“Thank you, that’s very considerate,” Annie graciously replied.

Gemma merely nodded, not wanting to incur wrath from either of the men.

Both ladies exited the kitchen, leaving Jim and Seb alone at last.

Moriarty peered at his partner. “Okay, start talking. You just got rid of those women and I want to know why.”

“I noticed something strange. I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it, too.”

Now Jim was scowling. “Seb, please get to the point. If all you plan to do is stand there and ridicule my skills of perception— which are, and always have been, superb— then I’ll be the next person walking out the door.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” the blonde quickly protested.

“Well, what did you mean, hmm? Cut to the chase.”

“Annie swore when she caught her finger in the drawer.”

“Yeah, what of it? I’d have done the same.”

“Probably, but would you have shouted an expletive in Danish?”

The mastermind’s expression reflected great contemplation as he mulled over Seb’s statement. Did her use of another language bear significance? If so, what?

“It’s peculiar,” Jim granted, “but I’ve heard people curse in a dozen different languages. Why does this concern you?”

“Because her employee file lists her as being German, not Danish. It’s what she claimed when she was first hired, and was then corroborated by a background check.”

“So you think she’s lying about her origins? What reason would she have to do that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” the assassin lamented. “But if she lied about one thing, who knows what else she may have fabricated. With there being a traitor amongst headquarters, we mustn’t dismiss an oddity like this.”

“You’re right. It’s wise to err on the side of caution. I’ll have Ian keep an eye on her.”

“That’s all we can do for now.”

The pair grew quiet, waiting for the tea kettle to heat. Finally, Jim had enough.

“Sebastian, this is bollocks. A watched pot never boils. We’re wasting precious time when I could be eating cake.”

“Want to start bringing the dessert out, then?”

“Yes, I do. And you’re going to help me.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Moran said with a wink. "I wouldn’t dream of making you carry them all by yourself.”

Jim smirked, a wicked idea coming to mind. “Perhaps after the festivities, you can show your king just how dedicated you are to the crown.”

Moriarty didn’t need to say anything more. Once the notion was put into Seb’s head, he was eager to ply the partygoers with cake and send them out the door. They were both eager, for that matter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested in a translation of what Annie said when she swore, see the following for reference: https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/for_helvede


	65. Darkness on the Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian receive disturbing news. Later, the consulting criminal vents his frustrations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

It was the day after the baby shower and Sebastian decided to go into headquarters a little later than usual so that he could assist Jim with some things around the house. He was in the middle of assembling a baby changing table when his phone rang.

“Hello?” he answered.

The sniper stayed on the line for a few minutes, listening, but not saying much. The color began to slowly drain from his face, and by the end of the call, he was alarmingly ashen.

“What’s wrong?” Jim asked. He was sitting in the nursery with Seb, overseeing his handiwork.

“It’s Marie…”

“You sent someone to check on her early this morning, right?”

Moran nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

“And?”

There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever as Jim awaited a response.

“She’s dead,” Seb finally spoke. “Her throat was slashed. There was a lot of blood.”

Now Moriarty paled as well. “Christ.” Though he wasn’t especially close to the woman, he didn’t want harm to come to her, either.

“The man I sent over received no reply when he knocked on her door, but he was able to go inside because it was unlocked. He searched the place and eventually discovered her body in the bathroom.”

“God, that’s terrible.”

“It gets worse,” the former colonel warned. “As he was about to leave and ring the police, he heard a child start to cry somewhere in the house.”

“Oh, no.” Jim didn’t like where this was headed.

“Turns out Marie’s two-year-old son was hiding in a broom closet. Apparently, he’d been there for days. No one came to get him after his mother died.”

The Irishman was stricken by the news. It broke his heart to imagine a little boy abandoned under such heinous circumstances.

“Right now, the cops are investigating to determine if this was a murder or a suicide.”

“It had to be murder, Seb. I’m sure of it.”

“I think so, too. But they’ve only just begun examining the crime scene. It may take a while to reach a conclusion.”

“Fuck their examination,” Jim hastily spat. “I don’t require further analysis to know the truth. She was going to tell you something, and somebody got to her before she could.”

“You may be correct, Magpie. This all feels very strange.”

“To say the least. First Lisa, now Marie. Who’ll be next to go missing and turn up dead? This is outrageous and I won’t abide it.”

“I agree, Jimmy. As soon as we come across a solid lead, I’ll be there to sort them out. That much I guarantee.”

“ _We’ll_ sort them,” Moriarty stressed. “I want my pound of flesh from Colin and his lackey both.”

“I wouldn’t dare exclude you, love. When the time for retribution comes, we’re in it together.”

“It can’t arrive soon enough.”

Seb paused, a thought coming to mind. “Have you contacted Ian about keeping an eye on Annie?”

“Not yet, and frankly, I’d rather have you do it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I thought I’d pull him aside for a chat about it at tonight’s group meeting, but now I feel like it can’t wait. He needs to be briefed immediately,” the genius explained. “I want you to go to headquarters straightaway and speak to him.” 

“Okay, I will. But what about the changing table? It isn’t going to assemble itself.”

“Save it for another day.”

“Fine.” If that’s what Jim truly desired, he would comply. “Guess I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yes. Update me after you talk to Ian. I want to know if he’s observed anything unusual about Annie up to this point.”

“Aye, aye.”  

And just like that, at the figurative snap of Moriarty’s fingers, Sebastian was gone. He had a mission to fulfill.

*********

“Wow,” Ian uttered in astonishment. “That’s a lot to take in.”

It really was. Sebastian had finished telling the young man about his and Jim’s stalking ordeal, not leaving out any detail. He wanted to make clear what they were up against.

“I’m sorry you’ve been put through such hell. Jim mentioned having a traitor in the office, but I didn’t know the whole story until now. I’ll do what I can to help. If that means watching Annie like a hawk, so be it.”

“I appreciate your cooperation,” the sniper spoke. “Have you noticed any odd behavior from her?”

Ian stopped to consider the question. “Well, she checks her mobile phone pretty often, but the same could be said for most of the staff.” He wracked his brain for other possible peculiarities. “She takes long lunches sometimes, extending past the hour we’re allotted. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but since you asked, it might be worth noting.”

“Hmm, I see.” Was she simply dallying at lunchtime or was something else afoot? “Do you know if she takes her lunches here in the building, or if she goes off-site for them?”

“I’m fairly certain she leaves,” the youth answered. “I’ve never seen her in the cafeteria, not even on ‘Chocolate Mousse Monday’— and you know how popular that is.”

“Perhaps it would be wise to monitor her whereabouts,” Moran mused. “Put a tracker on her vehicle and find out where she goes.”

“A tracker? Isn’t that illegal?”

Seb looked Ian in the eye, unwavering. “You work for James Moriarty now. There’s no longer a line between what is or isn’t legal. We do whatever’s necessary to get a job done. It’s best you remember that.”

He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Unless there’s anything further you’d care to add, I think this concludes our briefing.”

“Very well. Thank you for being honest and upfront with me. I prefer dealing with straightforward people.”

“As do I.”

Having been thoroughly informed, Ian exited the assassin’s private office.

Sebastian sat back in his chair, contemplating his next move. He had a myriad of things to do, but not much time to accomplish them in. Such was the life of London’s second most dangerous man. There was nary a moment of peace.

*********

The day flew by quickly for the Tiger and his Magpie. They each had their own activities to attend to, and before either knew it, it was time for Jim’s MOPS meeting. As usual, Seb chauffeured him there and waited patiently in the foyer while the group convened.

A headache had kept the genius from baking his customary treats, and he was not happy about it. He’d resorted to picking up store-bought pastry, an act that felt like sacrilege. He was sure people would notice the difference as soon as they took a taste. Thankfully, they hadn’t reached intermission yet.     

“Jim, you’ve been awfully quiet this evening,” one of the members, Jack, remarked.

“I’ve had a lot on my mind today.”

“Care to share it with the rest of us?”

“I doubt it would do much good.”

“Nonsense,” the man replied. “We’re here to lend support. This is an ideal opportunity to vent your frustrations, whatever they may be.”

The consulting criminal sighed. “All right, fine. If you must know, this morning I learned that one of my employees was dead. They were slain quite brutally via a slit to the throat,” he announced, and the group’s collective eyes grew wide. “As if that wasn’t bad enough, this person’s small child was found wailing in a closet. He’d been alone in the house with his mother’s corpse for days.”

The atmosphere of the room grew thick with shock and sorrow. Nobody seemed to know what to say, until finally Trevor, the coordinator, spoke up.

“Jim, that’s horrific. It’s understandable you’d be upset after receiving that kind of news.”

Moriarty was silent for a moment, trying to process the macabre thoughts that ran through his head.

“I can’t stop imagining what it must’ve been like for that little boy,” he confessed. “It’s impossible to grasp the concept of death at two-years-old, and yet, he was made to face it up close and personal. How would a toddler process such a thing? And the violence of it…” he trailed off, recalling what Seb had said about there being ‘a lot of blood’ at the scene. “God only knows how much the boy saw. I really hope he didn’t witness the actual event.”

“It may be cold comfort to hear this, but memory can be sporadic during the early stages of childhood. At his age, there’s a chance he may not remember what happened, and even if he did, it would probably be in bits and pieces, akin to recollecting a dream,” Trevor stated.    

“You mean a nightmare,” the Irishman scoffed.

“In this case, yes, I suppose so.”

Jim’s expression was grim. “This ‘incident,’ for lack of a better word, has also got me thinking of my own children. What if I died…what would become of them? I know my husband would see to the twins, but our line of work is fraught with danger— what if he was killed, too? What if something felled us both, and they were left all alone? They’ve got an uncle, but he’s in Australia. There’s no one close by to take care of them. They’d end up in the foster system. I can’t bear the idea of it,” he said, his voice taking on a frantic tone as his thoughts began to spiral. “I’ve always treated life so casually. Taken it entirely for granted. But now, every second seems precious and I don’t want to leave my babies.”

“Jim, however you treated life up to this point is irrelevant, because that was in the past and thus cannot be changed. You need to look ahead,” Trevor advised, putting his family counseling skills to use. “The present and future are malleable, and those are what you should focus on. Try to envision them as bricks of clay— they haven’t yet been formed and thrown in the kiln. You can still shape them into whatever you want. With that in mind, reconsider your problem. If you feel your current job is too dangerous, you could take steps mold the situation into something more ideal.”

“You mean find less risky employment?”

“If necessary, yes.”

“I’ve already considered it,” the mastermind admitted. “Considered handing over the reins to my enterprise and letting someone else run the show. Then I could stay home and care for my children on a permanent basis. Maybe even embark on a new career path while I’m at it.  People seem to love my baking— I’ve daydreamed about pursuing that on the side.”

“Really, Jim?” Ian chimed in to ask. He’d only just started working for the man, so hearing this was a bit disconcerting. If Moriarty resigned, what would that mean for his job security?

“Yeah, but another part of me can’t stand the thought of walking away from the business I worked so incredibly hard to build. It didn’t happen overnight. It took years upon years of effort,” he stressed.

“I sympathize with what you’re going through,” a MOPS newcomer named Simon spoke. “My brother was a field agent for MI5. After his daughter was born, he worried about his safety because he wanted to see her grow up.”

“How did he deal with it?” the genius inquired.

“He put in a formal request to be transferred to a desk position. Bureaucratic red tape being what it is, the paperwork went directly into a queue, and by the time someone got around to reviewing it, his fears had proved true. He was killed in the line of duty.”

“Simon, I’m sorry to hear that. It must’ve been an extremely painful experience,” Trevor acknowledged. “Thank you for sharing something so personal with us.”

Moriarty was not as enthusiastic. He stared daggers at his fellow group member.

“Don’t thank him for that awful story! Here I am, pouring my heart out to you people, and he sees fit to relay the fact that his relative had a high-risk job and got killed because of it. How is _that_ meant to comfort me in any way? It was depressing as fuck,” the consulting criminal angrily declared. “Tell me, Simon, if I’d said I was upset over an ailing pet, would you have regaled me with the tale of _‘Old Yeller?’_ ”

“I wasn’t trying to agitate you, Jim,” the man insisted.

“No? Could’ve fooled me.”

“Hey,” the coordinator interrupted, “there will be no infighting amongst us. This is a safe space and I intend to keep it that way.”

Jim snorted. “Fine. Do what you want. I don’t have to be here for it.” He stood up from his chair and proceeded towards the door.

“Don’t go!” Ian beseeched. “We’re not even halfway through the meeting.”

“I don’t care,” he icily replied.

Others called out, bidding him to stay, but it was futile. He stormed from the room feeling irritable, headachy, and exhausted. As far as Jim was concerned, if he never participated in MOPS again, it would be too soon.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	66. Unwell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim doesn’t feel good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

It had been a full week since Jim stormed out of his MOPS meeting, intent never to return. He’d received calls from multiple group members urging him to come back, but he was stubborn and refused their persuasion.

Of course, acrimony wasn’t the only reason he hadn’t gone. The Irishman was feeling decidedly unwell. Pounding headaches, dizziness, and extreme fatigue plagued him on a near-constant basis, making him hesitant to venture anywhere. He hid it easily enough, not wanting to bother Sebastian with his health woes because there were important business transactions in the works. They were in the middle of conducting a major arms acquisition and it was vital that the sniper not be distracted by anything.

As of this morning, Sebastian was traveling to meet with their client in Moscow. He never would’ve agreed to go if he knew his mate was ailing, and then they’d risk the entire deal falling apart. Moriarty couldn’t allow that to happen.  

Jim didn’t think he was acting irresponsibly because he already had an appointment with Dr. Swenson scheduled for that day. Surely, she’d see him through whatever was the matter and Seb needn’t be the wiser.

“Come on, darlings. We’d best get a move on,” he said, staring down at his belly.

He ambled slowly, grumbling when his coat wouldn’t close. It was the one article of clothing he hadn’t replaced with a paternity version, and he sorely regretted the oversight. He’d definitely be ordering a new parka when he returned home.

Much to Moriarty’s chagrin, that wasn’t the only thing that didn’t fit. Again, his feet were swollen to the point where only slippers would slide on without issue. Additionally, he faced a new predicament: his fingers were bloated and he couldn’t comfortably wear his gloves.

“This is bloody ridiculous.” He had half a mind to cancel his consultation, but he knew he needed to see a physician.

As he lumbered out the door looking rather a mess, he spoke to his stomach once more.

“This is all for you, I want you to know. I could be reclining in front of the fireplace, sipping a cuppa and reading a good book. But I’m not, because I’ve got to make sure I’m okay for your sake. Daddy wouldn’t do this for just anyone, so you ought to consider yourselves pretty special.”

He observed a slight shift inside as the twins responded to the sound of his voice. Moments like those always made him smile.

“Off we go,” were his last words before gingerly maneuvering into the car. Even small tasks such as that were becoming difficult to manage. For the millionth time, he found himself wishing his husband was there. Somehow everything seemed better with his Tiger by his side.

“Ugh. Stop being so weak and codependent!” he chastised.

His eyes grew wide as he felt a sharp kick from within. Jim quickly realized his mistake.

“I didn’t mean you, darlings. Daddy was talking about himself.” He placed a hand on his abdomen, rubbing it gently. “I’d never call you weak. You’re my little toughies. Been through a lot, but you keep hanging in there…just like your Papa. He’s tough, too.”

Moriarty couldn’t seem to get Seb off his mind. It was only through sheer force of will that he was able to resist pulling out his phone and texting Moran.   

“No. He’s got business to attend to. I can handle this on my own.”

Taking a deep breath, Jim started his vehicle and drove off. He’d muster through this, come hell or high water. He had to. There was no other option.  

*********

TAP. TAP. TAP.

The consulting criminal drummed his puffy fingers on the examination table as he awaited Dr. Swenson’s arrival.

He was _nervous._ After the check-in nurse recorded his symptoms and then took his weight and blood pressure stats, she exited the room in a bit of a hurry. Jim was no medical expert, but he recognized that probably wasn’t a good sign.

Finally, the obstetrician entered.

“Hello, Mr. Moriarty,” she greeted. “I understand you’ve been experiencing some troubling health issues recently. You reported severe headaches, vertigo, and lethargy, correct?”

He nodded. “That’s right. My hands and feet have also swelled. It’s quite annoying, to be honest. This time of year, I’d much rather fit into my Givenchy boots than a pair of slippers.”

The practitioner approached him, carefully inspecting his enlarged digits. “Have you been following the low-sodium diet I recommended?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Well, mostly. I cheated and ate a meat-laden slice of pizza about a month ago, but that was it. I’ve consumed nothing especially salty since then. Why do you ask?”

“Because your blood pressure has skyrocketed,” Dr. Swenson reported. “It’s likely the reason your extremities have ballooned up.”

Moriarty’s expression sank. “What? No…that can’t be true.” He took his antihypertensive medication as directed and it had worked fine until now.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s the truth,” she stressed. “When did you first notice these symptoms?”

The mastermind thought about it. “My feet have swollen off-and-on for a while, but I read that was a fairly common occurrence during pregnancy. They always returned to normal after a day or two, and my hands weren’t previously affected at all,” he explained. “This past week is when everything went to hell.”

“So it was a rapid onset?”

“Yes.”

She peered at him for a moment, considering his response. “Mr. Moriarty, I’d like to have my nurse take a blood sample from you so that we can run some tests. Our lab is able to process results within an hour, meaning it shouldn’t take up too much of your time.”

Jim blanched at the request. Time wasn’t an issue, but anxiety certainly was. “Blood testing? What for?”

“To check your protein and enzyme levels before proceeding further.”

“Okay, if you think it’s necessary.”   

“I do.”

From there, Dr. Swenson went to fetch her nurse while Jim sat restlessly, steeling himself for what was to come. He was feeling less like the most dangerous man in London and more like a pregnant omega who was sick, scared, and alone.

_Oh, Sebby. I’m sorry I let you leave._

*********

When Jim was ushered into his doctor’s private office, he could tell she was unhappy by the look on her face. It reminded him of the glower his primary school teachers used to give him when he acted up in class.

“Mr. Moriarty,” the woman began, “for future reference, if you decide to discontinue a medication I’ve prescribed, I ask that you please report it to me and my nurse. It’s important you share information of that nature so we know what we’re dealing with.”

Suddenly, the genius was incredibly confused. “Excuse me, what? I haven’t discontinued anything. I take the labetalol twice a day, every day.”

She frowned, not entirely trusting his claim. “Sir, as your physician, we have an established confidentiality between us. You can be honest with me.”

“I _am_ being honest!” he insisted, growing frustrated that she didn’t seem to believe him. “I don’t have the bottle with me right now, but it’s sitting in my medicine cabinet at home. I took one pill this morning and I’ll be taking another later on tonight!”

There was a pause as both stared at each other. Finally, Dr. Swenson spoke. “Mr. Moriarty, the blood test indicates that you have no antihypertensive medication in your system, which I’m positive is the cause of your current symptoms. Whatever you’re taking, it’s _not_ the drug it’s supposed to be.”

Jim paled, absolutely shocked by the news. How was this possible?

“It’s my professional opinion that you ought to be checked into the hospital where they can administer an IV drip of the _correct_ medication, and also monitor your vitals just to be on the safe side. Furthermore, I’d ask that you bring along the pill bottle you’ve been taking doses from and submit it to their lab for analysis. I’ll even post a referral for it to be rushed through, because I’m very curious as to what it actually is.”

“I’m curious, too,” he muttered, still processing what he’d learned. 

A terrifying thought came to Jim’s mind. “Could these… _incorrect_ drugs have been harmful to my babies?”

“I wish I could provide a definitive answer on that, but we won’t know for sure until the lab identifies what the substance is,” she said. “However, you can take some solace in the fact that you’ve consistently felt movement from them, and we did detect steady fetal heartbeats here today.”

All he could do was nod. Earlier, in his worried state, he’d cajoled the nurse into performing an ultrasound after she’d finished collecting his blood specimen. Essie and Eddie seemed okay then. He was grateful for that much.

Ultimately, Jim agreed to check himself into the hospital for treatment. He hated having to do so, but it was a necessary evil. The genius would withstand anything for the continued welfare of his little ones.  

 

 

 

Before heading to the medical facility, Moriarty swung by his house to grab a few items. He packed a bag containing the usual overnight supplies, making sure to throw in the bogus bottle of pills as well— he was eager to get the results back on those damnable things.

The Irishman paused, knowing he’d need to bring his own loungewear, lest they attempt to put him in one of those ghastly gowns that never fully close in the back. He rifled through a chest of drawers, coming up with an elegant pair of grey silk nightclothes. It was then that he spotted something else. Beneath his chic apparel laid the Snoopy pajamas Seb had recently gifted him. He wanted to reach for them, but hesitated.

_I can’t be seen wearing those in public._

Even so, he was inexplicably drawn to them. The fact that they came from Moran elevated them above being ordinary. They were rendered special by virtue of association.

_I’ll pack both._

There was one final garment he wanted to bring.

Approaching Sebastian’s laundry pile, Jim rooted around until he found what he was looking for. He clutched an old, raggedy sweatshirt belonging to the sniper. The item had seen better days, but that didn’t matter. The scent was what appealed to Moriarty. It smelled like his alpha, and right now, he needed that kind of comfort. He could throw on the oversized covering, close his eyes, and pretend Sebby was there. Maybe he could even trick his black heart into believing it for a few seconds.

The consulting criminal made it almost to the front door when he abruptly stopped in his tracks. _Should I contact him?_ If the situation was reversed, and it was Seb who had a health issue, he would want to know.

But…in this case, what would it accomplish? _Tiger’s busy. If I worry him, he won’t keep a clear head._

Jim was torn. He sighed, lamenting his changeable nature.

 _I can decide later._ Right now, he needed to concentrate on getting to the hospital before his condition worsened.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	67. Devotion Personified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian comes to Jim's aid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Thank god that’s over with,” Sebastian said upon returning to his hotel room. He’d just concluded a lengthy meeting with an oligarch to finalize the largest arms purchase Continental Europe had seen in years. This was a major coup for Moriarty’s criminal web, the kind one might be inclined to celebrate if they had someone with them to share in the good fortune. Sadly, Seb was alone.

Like a lizard shedding its skin, the sniper quickly peeled off his three-piece Armani suit, leaving it strewn across the floor. 

 _Jim would have a fit if he saw this._ The mastermind insisted that Seb wear ‘something professional’ during his trip to Moscow. He hated it, of course, but understood the necessity. Didn’t mean he had to keep it on a minute longer than required, though.

Speaking of Jim, he wondered what his husband was up to right now. It was 6 p.m. in Russia, so taking into account the three-hour time difference, it would be 3 o’clock in England. 

 _He’s probably having tea and scones or knitting something for the twins. Possibly both— the man excels at multitasking._ The thought of it put a gentle smile on Seb’s face.

Moran found it increasingly difficult to leave his Magpie’s side. Perhaps now more than ever, his alpha instincts were on high alert. He had an overwhelming urge to look after his omega, protecting him and their young. This past week, the desire was particularly strong.

The assassin sensed there was something amiss with Moriarty. First, his mood seemed out of sorts, but Sebastian attributed it to hormonal fluctuations and fallout from the spat he’d had at his group meeting. Then, other peculiarities emerged. The ordinarily insatiable Irishman lost all interest in sex, citing headache and fatigue whenever he tried to initiate intimate contact with him. He also observed that his mate had started using the elevator in their home rather than climb the stairs.

Prior to leaving for Moscow, Moran questioned the consulting criminal about his health. He denied there was a problem and jokingly referred to the former colonel as a ‘worrywart,’ assuring him all was well. Sebastian begrudgingly accepted the response, though a part of him remained wary.

The blonde sat on the bed and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. He was going to send a text.

_SM_

_Meeting finished. Deal is a go. I’m at the hotel now._

 As he leaned back against the pillows, a wicked idea came to mind. He had the perfect surprise for his spouse…

 

 

“Dammit!” Jim exclaimed. He’d dropped another stitch. “Why can’t I get this right?”

The genius was deeply frazzled and had hoped knitting might calm him down. No such luck. He was too jittery; too on edge. If anything, he was growing _more_ frustrated, not less.

A million things ran through his head at once. It was overwhelming and all-consuming. Not even his breathing exercises helped. He was teetering precariously close to a meltdown.

 _Maybe I should call someone._ He knew who he wanted to talk to— Seb was often the only person who could pull him back from the brink. But…

 _No, I mustn’t distract him. What about Ian?_ Truth be told, Moriarty missed interacting with the men from his support group. He didn’t realize what a positive influence MOPS was in his life until he’d stopped going for a week.  

BZZ. BZZ.

Jim’s phone buzzed, fate having apparently decided who he would talk to.

He checked his mobile device and gasped. Sebastian had texted him to say that the assignment in Moscow was a success, and…he’d also sent a photo of himself laying on the bed wearing only a pair of form-fitting grey briefs. He looked spectacular.

_JM_

_Oh my._

 

_SM_

_Like what you see? ;-)_

 

_JM_

_You know it._

 

_SM_

_Here’s a better view—_

 Seb forwarded another pic, this time a close-up of the generous bulge between his legs.

 

“Holy fuck.” It was a good thing the mastermind was hooked up to a stream of antihypertensive drugs, because otherwise, the sight might’ve thrown him into a tizzy.

 

_SM_

_Still there?_

 

_JM_

_Yes, sorry. Had to collect myself after seeing that._

 

_SM_

_Glad I haven’t lost my sex appeal. Was wondering lately._

 

Jim knew what his partner was hinting at. He’d refused the sniper’s advances this past week due to feeling like total shite. But he’d hoped Seb wouldn’t take it personally— he wanted to be with him, he was just too sick to participate.

The consulting criminal paused, a thought occurring to him. Perhaps this was the segue he needed to explain his current condition.

 

_JM_

_Tiger, you’re as gorgeous as ever. I’ve simply not been well. I’m not well now, for that matter._

 

_SM_

_What’s wrong, kitten?_

 

_JM_

_I…it’s…let me show you._

Moriarty quickly snapped a shot of himself in his hospital bed, clad in Seb’s sweatshirt and attached to three different machines— an IV, a blood pressure monitor, and a heart monitor. He nervously submitted the selfie.

There was a momentary lull in the conversation, and for an instant, Jim regretted sending the candid photo. Finally, Moran replied.

 

_SM_

_Got my clothes back on. I’ll check out of here and try to get a flight home within the hour. Which hospital are you at?_

 

_JM_

_St. Thomas.'_

 

_SM_

_Okay. With any luck, I’ll be there before the night’s out.  
Love you, Jimmy._

 

_JM_

_Love you, too._

 

The Irishman sat his phone down, amazed by how his mate had responded. All it took was one glimpse of him in trouble and he was rushing to be at his side. Seb was devotion personified.  

“Such a loyal Tiger. Forever my—” he stopped, looking down at his belly and placing a hand on it. “Forever _our_ protector. Your Papa is the finest man in the world. There are some idiots out there who would disagree, but they don’t count— they’re _ordinary._ Small people who lead small lives. Not like us.”

Moriarty felt calmer knowing that his alpha was on the way. He picked his knitting back up and decided to try it again now that he had a cooler head. This time around, he was confident his stitching would be on point.

*********

Today was proving to be among the longest in Sebastian Moran’s recent memory. Perhaps that had to do with the fact that he’d been in two separate countries and gone through two different time zones all in the span of approximately 18 hours. It was fucking grueling and he did not wish to repeat such a journey anytime soon.

The whole trip back, he was berating himself for ever having left in the first place. He’d suspected there was something wrong with Jim, but foolishly ignored his gut instinct. He had failed his expectant omega and was filled with shame.

Though Seb believed nothing could truly make up for his transgression, he still wanted to present some token of amends. He accomplished this with a bouquet of a dozen long stem roses, thorns clipped off and tied together with a satiny bow. They were beautiful, and he figured it was the least he could do.

“Here we are,” the fair-haired assassin noted. He was standing outside the room a nurse had directed him to.

Sebastian rapped on the door. When he received no reply, he quietly let himself in, observing that Jim was asleep.       

“Oh, Magpie.” His mate looked peaceful as he slumbered, yet surprisingly vulnerable, too. He was drowning in Seb’s sweatshirt and hooked up to all sorts of medical equipment. It was one thing to have seen the picture Jim sent, but to witness him like this in person…it made his heart ache.

Moran laid the flowers on the nightstand and sat down on the bed, intent to gently wake his husband.

“Your champion has arrived, my sweet.” Seb stroked the Irishman’s arm as he whispered softly to him.

“Hmm?” Jim mumbled, stirring a bit.

“I’ve come back early just for you, kitten. Jet lagged as hell from switching time zones so rapidly, but I’ll survive.”

“Tiger,” the genius groggily spoke, “am I dreaming?”

“No, love, I’m really here.”

Moriarty sat up and pulled his partner into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around the larger man in a vise-like grip. He held fast longer than he ordinarily would, not wanting to let Sebastian slip away from him.

“Easy does it, darling. Hug me any harder and I may crack a rib,” he teased.

Jim let up, slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be so fucking clingy. I can’t seem to stop myself lately. It’s pathetic.”

“No,” the sniper asserted, smoothing down a sleep-tousled lock of Jim’s hair. “It’s not pathetic. In fact, it’s actually quite normal. That’s how our biology works— at this stage of pregnancy, an omega becomes more dependent on their alpha, and being separated for too long a time can cause marked anxiety. Doubly so, if the omega is already in a state of illness or injury.”

“I’m well aware of the science behind it, Seb. But reading about it in a textbook and experiencing it firsthand are two entirely different things.”

“Fair point,” he acknowledged. “I shouldn’t have left you like I did. You needed me here.”

“I needed you on assignment,” the consulting criminal countered. “I don’t trust my other employees the way I trust you. No one else would’ve sufficed.”

“But still…I sensed something was amiss and I went to Russia anyway. A worthier alpha wouldn’t have done that.”

Jim blinked in surprise. “You sensed it? How? I was trying to hide how badly I felt.”

“Everything just began to add up. Little bits and pieces, here and there.”

“I see.” Clearly, the illness had thrown him off his game.

“So what’s the matter?”

That was the million dollar question. Now the mastermind would have to explain.

“Well, turns out the reason I’ve been feeling awful is because my blood pressure went up. Way up. My obstetrician recommended I check in for treatment, so that’s what I did.”

Seb nodded. “Glad you followed her advice. Do they know what triggered your blood pressure to rise? Maybe they ought to increase your meds.”

“The problem is related to my meds, all right, but not in the way you might think.”

“Oh?”

“Apparently, someone tampered with my drugs. For the past week, I’ve been taking what I believed was labetalol, but it really wasn’t that at all.”

Moran’s eyed widened in shock. “Good Lord!” he exclaimed. “What were you actually being dosed with, then?”

“The lab ran an analysis and determined it was a multivitamin. Thank god it wasn’t anything harmful to the babies.” Jim shuddered at the thought of how it could’ve been so much worse.

“That’s a relief,” Seb agreed. “How did the medication mix-up occur? You said there was tampering involved? How, and by whom?” He wanted to know exactly who it was he needed to hunt down and kill.

“I suspect tampering took place because it was only this week that I’ve experienced symptoms. I think I started out with the correct drugs, but someone swapped them within the last seven days or so.”

Though he tried to suppress it, the burly blonde alpha was fuming mad. Switching a person’s medication was fucking despicable. And to do it to a pregnant omega…he couldn’t begin to wrap his head around how wrong that was. Even to a career assassin, the act was unfathomable.

“Jimmy, who do you suppose would do such a thing?”

“I hate to suggest it, but logically speaking, it must’ve been a guest at the baby shower. The timing fits, and they were the only other people to have had access to our medicine cabinet.”

“Fuck.” Sebastian’s fingers balled into fists as a blazing fury coursed through him. He’d allowed visitors into his home— his sanctuary— and _this_ is how he was repaid. Someone had violated his trust and hospitality by targeting Jim and their unborn children. It was thoroughly contemptible.

“As for which of our guests is the guilty party, well, that I don’t know. We’ve got to consider this carefully.”

“I’ll kill them. Whoever it is, they’ve signed their own death warrant.”

“Indeed,” the genius concurred. “I don’t think it was Ian. I’m fairly confident he can be ruled out right off the bat. Probably not Molly, either. This pill swap was obviously premeditated, yet she was stunned to see me. She’s not a good enough actress to have faked that reaction.”

“And what of her companion, Irene?”

“Adler seemed surprised as well, but she’s a much better liar than Miss Hooper. She was also at the hotel the night we were spied on,” he recalled. “I’m still not convinced this is her M.O., though. And besides, she wasn’t there for the graffiti incident that occurred shortly before we went to Monaco. Remember, I’m operating under the premise that the same person has been perpetrating all of these acts.”

“Then it’s got to be Gemma or Annie,” Seb swiftly remarked. “They’ve been around for a lot of things.” 

“They certainly have,” the Irishman declared. “Gemma’s never given me a reason to doubt her, aside from the baby shower invite snafu. Annie, however…” He thought back to the language slip-up she’d made at his party. “Earlier this week, you mentioned putting a tracker on her vehicle. Has anything come of it?”

“Unfortunately, no. She’s been venturing to cafes, bistros, and bars. Nothing outwardly suspicious.”  

Moriarty sighed. “We need more information on her, immediately.”

“I’m trying as best I can.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t. I’m just frustrated by the direction this is taking,” Jim admitted. “I’ve always prided myself on being able to see through people. To look at someone and instantly deduce everything about them. But with Annie…I didn’t get the impression that she was lying. If she truly is responsible for terrorizing us, then it means I’m a complete and utter fool. A fucking moron. Or worse yet… _ordinary_.”

“No, Jimmy. It simply means you’re human. I hate to break it to you, but no one is infallible, not even the illustrious James Moriarty.”

“But I _should_ be, Seb! Don’t you grasp that?” The mastermind was yelling, though his tone was more saddened than angry.

Now it was Moran’s turn to do the hugging. “Come here,” he commanded, taking his mate into his arms. Jim halfheartedly struggled for a moment, but soon melted into the larger man’s embrace.  

“People don’t deceive me,” he insisted. “I deceive them. That’s how it’s supposed to work.”

“I know, honey, I know. It’ll be okay. We’ll get through this together. I promise we will.” 

Seb rubbed his omega’s back in a soothing manner as he listened to the tiny sniffles coming from him. Jim had been trying not to cry, but was now coming undone.

“Tiger…she told me about MOPS.”

“Huh?”

“At your birthday party. Annie was the one who said her brother-in-law had attended the support group, and she recommended it to me. Why would she have told me about MOPS if she had a vendetta?” the genius wondered aloud. “Does she even have a male omega relative? If it’s true, then how could she have written those terrible slurs in the bathroom? And if it’s a lie, how was she aware of the group in the first place? It doesn’t make sense.”

Sebastian had to agree— this _was_ strange, and they definitely needed an accurate account of her background. Surely, if they dug deep enough, something would surface.

“Hey, Sebby?”

“Yes?”

“Are those for me?” Jim asked hopefully, noticing the roses on the nightstand.

“Yeah, they are.” The sniper smiled warmly, pulling out of their hug so that he could hand his spouse the bouquet.

Moriarty leaned down to smell them. “These are lovely, Tiger. Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

“Maybe you could go to the nurses’ station and see if they have a glass or a vase to put them in?”

“That’s a fine idea. I’ll get right on it.”

“I appreciate it, Seb.”

Jim hummed softly. He was still a jumble of hormones and emotions, but at least now he had his alpha by his side.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	68. The Things We Do for Those We Adore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian plots to cheer up Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Jim was feeling morose and Sebastian was determined to perk him up before it got any worse.

The mastermind’s poor mood was a direct result of the lecture he’d received that morning from not one, but two, doctors. He was reprimanded for not following the orders he’d been given when last discharged from the hospital. His attending physicians had instructed him to maintain modified bedrest, use a wheelchair at least half the time, and wear a portable blood pressure monitor 24/7. He’d kept up none of those things and they had a few choice words to say about it.

Seb was present for the confrontation, and he fully expected Jim to flip out in response. It came as a huge shock when, instead of anger, he reacted with profound sadness. He sat stone-faced until the doctors left the room, at which point he broke down into tears. The Irishman was utterly guilt-ridden, sobbing and apologizing to their unborn children for not taking better care of them.

Moran wanted to knock those fucking physicians’ teeth out. How _dare_ they speak to his husband so rudely? He was the Napoleon of Crime, not some ordinary bloke off the street. He deserved respect. Furthermore, Seb was appalled by their lack of overall sensitivity. It was well-established within the medical community that pregnant omegas were often highly emotional and protective of their young. Most practitioners wouldn’t dream of addressing one so harshly. What, then, was this pair thinking?

 _Bloody bastards. Probably treated him differently because he’s male._     

“Tiger?”

In a flash, the sniper was pulled from his thoughts.

“Yes, dear?”

“Fetch me something from the vending machine. Make sure it’s chocolate. But absolutely no raisins.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Seb made his way down the hall to the candy dispenser. There were many options to choose from. Which would his Magpie most enjoy?

“Hmm.”

RING. RING.

The former colonel’s confectionery selection was interrupted by the din of his phone.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Moran? It’s Ian.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to ask you a question. It’s not work-related. This is a personal matter.”

“Okay, go ahead.” Sebastian was officially intrigued.

“Well, as I’m sure you’re aware, Jim hasn’t attended a MOPS meeting in a week. I’ve tried convincing him to come back and so have others. We haven’t had much luck, though. Bearing that in mind, I was wondering if you might be able to talk him into returning? We’re meeting tonight and it would be great if he showed up. A lot of us have missed him.”

"Really? That’s interesting, because I’ve gotten the distinct impression he misses being with the group, too.”

“Then it shouldn’t be difficult for you to persuade him. Lay out the facts and maybe he’ll realize that coming back is the best option.”

Seb sighed. “If you’re convening tonight, there may be a slight problem.”

“How’s that?”

“Jim’s in the hospital and they want to keep him here for a few days.”

“The hospital?” Ian exclaimed. “What happened?”

“I’d rather not discuss the specifics while I’m standing in a public place, but let’s just say he had a high blood pressure episode.”

“Understood,” the young man stated. “I’m sorry he’s having health issues. Will he be all right?”

“Yes, but he’ll need to follow some fairly stringent guidelines. I suspect the next two months will be colorful, to put it mildly.”

Ian chuckled. “Yeah, I get the sense that Jim’s probably not the most cooperative of patients, even on a good day.”

“Very perceptive,” Moran replied. He paused for a moment, an idea swirling around in his head. “Is there a number I could call to get in touch with the MOPS organizer?”

“I’ve got Trevor’s contact information. Why?”

“I’m hatching a plan.”

*********

Jim stared, his expression steely and unflinching. It was a fierce battle of wills. Staring, staring, staring.

Unfortunately, his opponent, a tepid bowl of peas, won out.

“Here goes nothing,” he announced, shoving a heaping spoonful of the tiny green orbs into his mouth. He wanted to gag, but forced himself to swallow it down.

Seb looked on supportively. “You’re a trooper, honey.”

“I have to be. This pitiful excuse of a side dish is supposedly ‘nutritious.’ Nutrition is essential to the babies. Therefore, it’s in their best interest that I suffer the horror and indignity of peas.”

The assassin stifled a laugh. Somehow, Moriarty could transform the simple act of eating vegetables into a dramatic event. It took talent to achieve that.

“Hey, Jimmy?”

“Yes?”

“Want to take a break? We could leave this room…walk around for a bit.”

The consulting criminal considered the proposal. It did get awfully boring being cooped up in bed all day. And he _really_ hated those peas— the mere sight of them turned his stomach.

“Let’s do that,” he agreed, detaching the medical equipment from his body. The only device he left on was a portable blood pressure monitor. “Bring that damn wheelchair over here so I can ease into it.”

Sebastian complied, moving it closer. Jim got in without any trouble, a fact which pleased his mate.

“Nice to see you’re adept with the chair,” he remarked.

“I’m not manning a rocket ship. The learning curve isn’t especially steep.”  

“Still, it’s good you’re not struggling.”

The irritable omega snorted. “Yeah, it’s fine and dandy. Now London’s most dangerous man can be seen rolling his way through the mean streets of England like someone’s gran.”

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. You won’t have to use this thing forever,” Moran spoke as he pushed Jim out the door and into the hall.

“Thank god.”

“Why do you hate it so much?” Seb inquired. “I know it’s not ideal transportation, but surely it can’t be that bad.”

“Try it sometime and see how you like it.”

“I _have_ tried it. Broke my leg once when I was in the army. They made me use a wheelchair for a few weeks while the fracture healed. It wasn’t that big a deal.”

“Well, pardon me for not possessing the resilience of a combat-trained soldier. I’m 7 months pregnant with twins and constantly uncomfortable, but I can see how you’d think our situations were comparable.”

 _Oh hell._ Jim's disposition was rapidly taking a nosedive. He needed to show him his surprise ASAP and pray it was enough to improve his mood.  

“My apologies, kitten. I didn’t mean to suggest a similarity. I know you’ve had a particularly rough time these past several months.”

“Rough? That’s an understatement if ever I’ve heard one. I’ve been put through the bloody wringer.”

Seb frowned. “I’m sorry things have gone so wrong this year. I always thought that if we had a child, it would be a joyful experience for us both; a period of our lives we’d look back on fondly. Instead, it’s been fraught with terror and illness.”

“Tiger,” the genius began, his tone softening, “it _has_ been joyful. Just because there’ve been low points doesn’t mean there haven’t been high points as well. And what’s this about you thinking of us having a child? You never mentioned it to me.”

The sniper flushed, slightly embarrassed by his admission. “Long before you expressed a desire to have my baby, I imagined what it would be like if we did. All bonded alphas fantasize about that kind of thing.”

“In your mind’s eye, how did you picture it?”

“Mostly, I envisioned taking care of you. I saw myself as being there every step of the way, from the first checkup to the delivery. And then I’d contemplate what might come after— the milestones and moments we’d share as a family.”

Jim suddenly grew quiet, leaving Moran to wonder if he’d erred in his disclosure.

“You okay, sweetheart? I hope my confession didn’t upset you.”

“No, I just…I’m a bit overwhelmed. What you imagined was so beautiful, Seb. I don’t think I could love you more if I tried.”

“Likewise, Magpie.”

Contented, they continued their evening stroll. But the assassin had a trick up his sleeve. This was no ordinary jaunt around the building. No, it was a purposeful trip.

Sebastian stopped when they reached a door labeled ‘Conference Room.’

“Is there a reason you’re not pushing me anymore, dear?”

“Yes, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Jim’s face crinkled with curiosity. “Oh? Do go on.”

“Let’s take a peek behind this door, shall we?” 

The couple entered the room, and to Moriarty’s amazement, everyone from his Male Omega Pregnancy Support group was there.

He looked at them, then turned to Seb, and back again. “How did you manage this?”

“I called the coordinator and we hammered out a plan to bring the meeting to you.”

“Tiger, that’s so sweet. I don’t even have the words to properly thank you.”

“Well, do you have the words to say ‘hello?’” a familiar voice asked. It was Jack, injecting himself into the conversation.

“For a fellow group member? Of course.” Jim wheeled himself closer to where the attendees were sitting. “How’ve you all been?”

“Not bad,” Scott answered. “Though we were concerned when we heard you were in the hospital.”

“Yeah,” another man agreed. “Are your babies okay?”

“My babies are perrrrrfect,” he proudly proclaimed. “But I’ve got to take it easy. They’re worried about the possibility of premature labor if I don’t abide doctor’s orders.”

“Sorry to hear that,” someone else spoke. “Try to be careful.”

“I will,” the mastermind assured. “Anything for my little angels.”

To Moriarty’s surprise, he was soon approached by Simon, the person he’d clashed with at his last meeting.

“Hey, Jim? You may not be keen on seeing me, but I want to apologize for us getting off on the wrong foot.”

“Well, I might've behaved a teensy bit rashly that night myself,” he admitted. “I think we’re even. But for future reference, _never_ tell me a depressing story when I’m looking to be cheered up. I guarantee it won’t end well.”

“Duly noted.”   

Now that the Irishman was back in his element, Seb wasn’t sure what to do next. Return to Jim’s room, maybe? Grab some coffee in the cafeteria? Sit in the lobby and play games on the phone? He didn’t know.

Out of the blue, Trevor, the MOPS organizer, began waving Moran over to where he and the participants sat. It was a trifle eerie, as if he’d read the sniper’s mind.

“Care to hang out with us, Sebastian? Usually, I maintain a ‘no partners’ rule for our meetings, but this is a rather unique assembly we’re holding tonight. I don’t believe anyone here would object.”

“Uh, sure. I guess I could stick around if nobody has a problem with it.”   

At that, the members expressed their enthusiasm to let Seb stay. It seemed the dashing alpha had fans among the flock.

“You heard them,” Trevor noted. “It’s safe to say they want you here.”

Jim flashed a devilish grin. “Come sit by me, darling. This is going to be fun.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	69. Holiday Happenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Seb decide what to get each other for Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Sebastian rapped on the bedroom door while balancing a tray of food on one hand. He knew Jim was awake— he could hear the television blaring down the hall as he approached.

Suddenly, the tv was turned off and a sing-song voice called out.

“Come in, Sebbbbby.”

He did, marching up to the Irishman and presenting him with breakfast.

Jim grinned. “What’s on the menu, soldier?”     

“Strawberry stuffed french toast, scrambled eggs, and a new herbal tea blend. Bon appétit, sir.” He leaned down, stealing a kiss from his mate. It was meant to be a quick peck, but Jim grabbed him by the shirt collar and seized his mouth with sizzling abandon. 

“Blimey,” Seb exclaimed. “If this is your reaction to french toast, I’ll start making it every day.”

“It’s my reaction to _you_ , darling. Though I wouldn’t mind you preparing breakfast on a daily basis.”

“I already do.”

“Only some of the time,” the genius quipped. “I’m not an idiot. I can tell when you’ve really cooked versus when you’ve just brought me takeout and pretended it was homemade.”

_Damn he’s good._ It was as if the man had an all-seeing eye.

“In any case, I hope you enjoy today’s selection. I got it from a recipe I found on the internet.”

“If it tastes half as good as it looks, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Moriarty dug in, sampling everything on his plate. “This is superb, my dear. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Thanks, kitten. I aim to please.”

For the next few minutes, Jim continued to eat while the sniper did a bit of light housekeeping around the room. He wasn’t an especially tidy individual, but he had to pick up the slack now that his partner was mandated to stay off his feet.

“They briefly mentioned Marie on the news this morning,” the hungry omega said between bites.

“Oh? What’s the scoop?”

“Her death has been ruled a murder. It was staged to appear like a suicide, but her body showed signs of struggle.”

“Just as we thought,” Seb noted with a sigh. “Do they have any leads?”

“No word on that,” he answered. “I think we’ve both got a suspect or two in mind, though.”

The couple was quiet for a moment, mutually contemplating the situation.

Finally, Moran broke the silence. “I’d best get to headquarters. A criminal empire can’t run itself.”

“Quite right,” Jim agreed. “I have plans for today as well.”

“Magpie, we’ve discussed this— you mustn’t overexert yourself.”

The smaller man laughed. “Exert? Please. The only energy I’ll be expending is the negligible amount it takes to open and close my laptop. I’m going to do some online shopping.”

“Ah, I see. Looking for anything in particular?”

“Actually, yes. Christmas presents for the babies. We’ve got to have something to stick in those stockings,” he declared. “Also, the shelving unit in the playroom is far too bare. I want it filled to the brim with stuffed animals. I’m just not sure if I should have them arranged by color, size, or species.”

Sebastian arched a brow. “Color and size, I understand. But species? These are dolls we’re talking about here. I don’t think they have a genus classification.”

“Of course not, darling. Don’t be daft. What I’m referring to is the type of animal they are. Bear, bunny, puppy…the odd llama or giraffe. That sort of thing.”

“Okay, gotcha.” Now it made more sense.

“Tell me, Tiger…have _you_ done any shopping yet this holiday season?” The mastermind flashed his spouse an endearing, wide-eyed expression. He was attempting to gain gift information in a none-too-subtle manner.

“Don’t give me that look,” Moran spoke.

“I beg your pardon? I know of no ‘looks.’ I’m simply asking my ruggedly handsome husband a question. Surely, there’s no harm in that.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Jim. I know you’re trying to pump me for details.”

Moriarty gasped in mock indignation. “Why, I never!”

“You’ll not get a word out of me regarding Christmas presents. This year, I intend to truly surprise you.” In holidays past, the consulting criminal had a way of figuring out his gifts ahead of time, be it through logic and deduction or, on occasion, good old-fashioned snooping. Either way, Seb was determined not to let that happen again this Yuletide.

Jim rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll work it out. I always do.”

“Not this time.”

“I’m a genius, Seb. There’s no point in trying to hide things from me, but it’s adoooorable that you think you can.”

“We’ll see.”

“Yes, we will.”

“On that note, I’m heading off. Have fun shopping, and remember not to do anything too strenuous. Use your wheelchair, use the elevator, and just to be on the safe side, keep an eye on your meds.”

“Christ, when you talk to me like that, I feel as though I’m 90.”

“Hey, it could be worse.”

“I fail to see how.”

“You could be forced to wear one of those ‘Life Alert’ bracelets like the grannies in adverts who’ve fallen and can’t get up.”

 Jim laughed heartily at the remark. “Touché.”

Before Sebastian left, he took one last glimpse of his mate. He hated walking away from him when he was in such a compromised state.

_What kind of alpha leaves his pregnant, semi-disabled omega home alone?_   Yes, there was a guard posted outside, but what about in the house? Anything could happen. 

Seb was incredibly conflicted. He wanted to be there to take care of him. At the same time, he had a criminal empire to oversee. Balancing the dual responsibilities was proving more difficult than he’d anticipated.

For now, he’d try to focus on the task at hand— traveling to headquarters. He’d have time to think later.

*********

“I don’t know what to get Jim for Christmas,” Moran confessed. He’d called Ian into his private office so that they could brainstorm potential gifts.

“I really want to surprise him,” the sniper continued, “but I haven’t the faintest idea what to buy. There’s the obvious stuff— designer clothes, cologne, chocolates, and the like. But those are all so predictable. I need to come up with something he’d never expect. Any suggestions?”

The young man hesitated, pondering the matter carefully. “Well, Jim is a man who already has ‘everything,’ correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then maybe, as a change of pace, you ought to consider giving him a gift that places its value on the immaterial.”

“Immaterial? How do you mean?”

“I mean something that ties into an abstract concept, like love, family, and togetherness.”

_Huh…that’s actually a good idea._ These days, the mastermind was wrapped up in all things relating to the twins. _He’d probably go nuts for a Christmas present linking back to them._  

“Ian, what sort of item might reflect the essence of family?”

“Something symbolic, perhaps? Families bud and bloom…branch out through generations,” he said. “To people like me and Jim, the notion takes on a special meaning because we didn’t have much in the way of stability or connectivity growing up.”

_Bud, bloom, branch…I’ve got it!_ The youth’s choice of words gave Seb a wonderful idea.

“A tree,” the assassin announced.

“Pardon me?”

“I’ll buy Jim a tree. Have it planted in the yard, and dedicated to our expanding family. It will grow up alongside us.”

“That’s lovely, Mr. Moran. I think he’ll be touched by it.”

“You helped me figure it out. I appreciate that.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Seb nodded. “I know I pulled you away from your work to hold this impromptu meeting. Now that we’ve settled the gift situation, you’re free to go back to what you were doing.”

“Very well. If you need anything else, give me a holler and I’ll be right in.”

“Sounds good.”

Ian exited Moran’s office, returning to his desk. He pulled up the file he’d been working on, prepared to resume coding a new splash screen for the business website. All seemed well, until he was interrupted again, this time by the vibration of his mobile phone. He initially wanted to let it go to voicemail, but changed his mind in case it was something important.

“Hello?”

“Hiiiiiii, it’s Jim.”

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Splendidly. I just went on a bit of a shopping spree. Spent a small fortune on toys for Essie and Eddie.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. It was quite thrilling, if I do say so myself. Did you know that Louis Vuitton and Gucci make branded teddy bears?” he asked excitedly. “I had no idea until today!”

“Life’s full of surprises.”

“It certainly is,” the genius agreed. “Speaking of surprises, that’s what I’m calling you about.”

“Ah, okay.”

“I want to give Seb an _awesome_ Christmas present. I’ve already knitted him a sweater, which I’m sure he’ll adore, but I don’t feel it’s enough. He’s gone above and beyond for me this year, and I want to repay him with a grand gesture. I’m talking knock-your-socks-off amaaaaazing.”

“What will it be?”

“Welllllll…that’s the problem. I’ve got no clue. I _should_ know, because I’m brilliant, yet somehow I don’t. It’s frustrating,” he complained. “But I thought that if we put our heads together, we could come up with the perfect prezzie.”

Ian was taken aback, astonished that both Seb and Jim would consult him regarding their gift-giving endeavors.  

“Anything readily spring to mind?” Moriarty prodded.

“Hmm…you mentioned he’s done a lot for you this year. Would that be in relation to your pregnancy, or is the timing coincidental?”

“Sebby’s always done whatever I demanded of him. But yes, he’s been particularly attentive throughout the pregnancy. We’re growing into a real family and I almost can’t believe it. I never saw myself as the domestic type. Now, though, I find it strangely gratifying.”

“Maybe that’s your answer.”

“Huh? Care to be a little less vague?”

“Family,” he spoke. “You could focus on a gift that celebrates the family you’re building and the love that encompasses it.”

Jim was silent for a few seconds, considering the suggestion.

“Ian, that’s fabulous! I _adore_ the idea,” he enthused. “In fact, I know exaaaaactly what to do.”

“Go on. I’d like to hear it.”

“I don’t want to say what it is just yet. First, I need to make sure my plan is feasible. I dare not speak too soon.”

“All right. I hope everything pans out. Keep me posted.”

“Oh, I will. This is going to be spectacular.”

The two concluded their conversation, each having work to do. Ian needed to finish coding that splash screen, while Jim had to start putting his plans into motion. It was shaping up to be a productive day all around.

Maybe, just maybe, this holiday season would turn out well for everyone.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	70. ‘Tis the Season to be Scheming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim shares a plan with Sebastian. Later, the consulting criminal ponders the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Jim was ecstatic. He’d placed calls to all the proper people and it appeared his gift to Sebastian was really going to happen. He was absolutely beaming at the prospect.

“Look at you, grinning like the cat that ate the canary,” Seb commented as he entered the living room after a hard day’s work.

“I’m happy, darling, and why shouldn’t I be? I live in an exquisite home with my gorgeous husband, I’ll soon have two beautiful babies to care for, and topping things off, it’s Christmastime.”

“Well, I’m just glad you’re focusing on the positives,” Seb said, sitting down beside the mastermind. “I’ve seen you get hung-up on the darker aspects of life all too often. It’s nice to witness you embracing the good as well.”

Jim paused, contemplating Moran’s statement. “It is strange, isn’t it?” he mused. “I’ve always had this ugly, empty thing inside me. A proverbial ‘hole’ in my black heart. But lately, it doesn’t feel so bad. It’s as if the void is being filled by something…by hope and excitement, maybe. And love. Love for our family.”

The sniper’s smile now matched his spouse’s. “That’s wonderful, honey.” He reached out to gently stroke the smaller man’s hand.

“You don’t think it’s a bit corny or clichéd?”

“Never.”

The couple gazed adoringly at each other, swept up in the depths of their mutual affection. It was quiet moments like these when they truly knew they were soulmates, bound together by more than a marriage license and shared assets. Theirs was a love that could not be quantified in ordinary terms, nor explained to those on the outside looking in. It simply existed, and always would, no matter the time or place.

“Sebby?”    

“Yes, dear?”

“I want to do something special for the holiday.”

“Like what?”

“Throw a party.”

Seb’s jubilant expression dropped. “A party, huh?”

“Yes. You don’t seem too enthusiastic about it, though.”

“Consider our current track record. The last two parties we held were for my birthday and your baby shower, respectively. Neither went off without a hitch, and both led to some serious repercussions. You really want to chance a third?”

“Actually, there’s a method to my madness.”

“Then by all means, explain.”

“I’d like to hold an employee-only Christmas party here at the house as a way to smoke out Annie.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow. How would hosting such an event expose her? She’d never admit to having an agenda.”

The consulting criminal flashed a devilish smirk. “Oh, she will if we dose her, darling.”

Seb arched a brow, intrigued. “With what?”

“Sodium pentothal, duh. Must I spell everything out for you?”

“Truth serum?” 

“That’s the ‘Hollywood’ name for it, yes. I prefer the scientific term.”

“Interesting proposition, kitten. We haven’t gone down the pharmaceutical route in ages.”

“It would be fitting after the way she tampered with my medication. I’m almost certain it was her,” he asserted. “Let’s see how much she enjoys being administered a drug she didn’t consent to take.”

“Poetic justice,” the assassin remarked.

“Precisely.”

“If we were to do this, who’d be in charge of the interrogation?”

“You and me, of course. Who else would I entrust?”

“Right.” Seb wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of Jim participating.

“Why are you scowling? This _will_ work. I’m just sorry I didn’t think of it sooner.”

“You shouldn’t be involved in the debriefing. It’s too dangerous.”

“Too dangerous?” the genius scoffed. “Hardly. She’s one woman, not a militia. I can handle her.”

“You could get hurt. Even with me there to guard you, she might try to lash out. We can’t risk the babies’ safety.”

When Moran put the situation into perspective, it was difficult for Jim to argue the point. But he wanted to be there for the proceedings, goddammit. This was unfair.

“I deserve to play a role in revealing the truth,” he declared. “She’s working for the man who _kidnapped_ me, Sebastian. I was put through nine days of hell. Shackled, starved, and left to rot in a fucking basement. Not knowing if I’d ever see you again or if our children would survive the ordeal. I was terrified they’d die inside me, and then I’d die, too, from the heartbreak. So don’t you _dare_ tell me I can’t be involved. I’m owed this.”

The sniper was silent for a moment, processing his husband’s plea. Clearly, this meant a lot to him.

“Okay, Jimmy. You’ve got a right to participate, and I won’t begrudge it. But please, let me protect you…all _three_ of you,” he stressed, placing a hand on his mate’s belly. “If, god forbid, something goes wrong, I need you to promise that you’ll make yourself scarce and allow me to deal with it. You’ll do as I say if the situation demands it.”  

Moriarty nodded. “Fine, I promise. I’m not unreasonable, Seb. All I want is to take Annie and Colin down.”

“As do I.”

“It’s settled, then. We’ll throw a party, lure the bitch away from the crowd, dose her, and interrogate. Not sure how long we should keep her alive beyond that point. I suppose it depends on how useful her information is. We may require supplemental details later on.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Once they’d reached an agreement, Jim moved to stand up. He immediately grimaced in pain.

Sebastian was quick to come to his aid, letting the Irishman lean against him for support. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“My back is killing me and my body feels so heavy,” he complained. “I’m a whale, Tiger. An enormous, waddling whale who can barely lumber from one room to the next without gasping for breath.”

“Maybe we ought to talk to your doctor about putting you on oxygen,” the assassin suggested.

“God, no. I’m enough of an invalid as it is. I don’t need to be hooked up to any more tubes or devices, thank you very much.”

“It was a fleeting thought. Consider it forgotten.”

Moriarty didn’t reply. Instead, he maneuvered into his wheelchair and began rolling towards the bathroom.

“Can I help with anything?” Seb asked.

“Possibly. I could use a soak. Care to draw Shamu a bath? Fair warning— I’ve got one hell of a splash zone.”

“Magpie, don’t be cruel to yourself. You’re not fat, just pregnant.”

“Refer to it however you want. I still look like a blimp.”

“Would it shock you to hear that I find it kind of sexy? As an alpha, a part of me is pleased to see you bearing my cubs.”

“Honey, I stopped being surprised by your predilections a looooong time ago. You could tell me you’re turned on by one-legged albino midgets and I wouldn’t bat an eye.”

Moran chuckled. “I don’t believe my tastes go quite that far, but it’s good to know you keep an open mind.”

The former colonel and his partner entered the bathroom together. Seb was intent on drawing the best damn bubble bath Jim had ever dipped a toe in. And perhaps he would offer his patented back-scrubbing skills, too.   

*********

A few days passed and things were running smoothly, both at headquarters and at home. The consulting criminal was focusing most of his energy on the Christmas party he’d decided to throw, forwarding invitations office-wide and making arrangements with a caterer. Festive decorations were already up, so he needn’t worry about the aesthetics. As for music, holiday tunes could easily be piped in through the home stereo system.

Satisfied he’d done enough planning for one day, Jim checked his watch. He was a bit disappointed to find that it would be another hour until Seb came home. He hated to seem clingy, but he really did miss his mate.

_Stupid omega hormones. Turning me into a pitiful, codependent creature._

“Ooh!” he blurted out. “Big kick.” One of the babies had abruptly made their presence known.

The mastermind rubbed his stomach and smiled, feeling significant movement from within. “I’m sure it’s getting to be cramped quarters in there, my darlings. But rest assured— it won’t be much longer until you’re out here, in Daddy’s arms.”  

Sometimes it was hard to believe that the twins were due in a mere two months. It seemed like just yesterday he was at Dr. Swenson’s office having his first sonogram done. Now they were almost ready to be born. The reality of it both thrilled and terrified him.

Jim couldn’t wait to meet his children. There were so many things he wanted to teach them. So many places he would take them and sights he would show them. They’d be the most doted upon babies in the world, forever loved and protected by London’s fiercest duo.   

Despite this, an untold horror lay beneath the surface. Jim was utterly petrified of giving birth. It was a fear he’d kept well hidden, yet it burned with the fury of matches lit amid kerosene.

The Irishman was no fool. He knew the statistics were in his favor and Cesarean sections were routine. His apprehension was 100% irrational. Cognizance, though, did not make the anxiety cease. It lingered, casting dread on what should be a joyous event.

He wheeled himself into his office and opened the desk drawer that no longer locked thanks to Sebastian’s handiwork. After a short bit of sifting, Jim found the document he was looking for. It’d been some time since he’d gone over its contents and an update was in order.

Taking a deep breath, he stared at the ominously titled paperwork. It was the _“Last Will & Testament of James Declan Moriarty.”_

 

 

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	71. Some Wounds Remain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an emotional confrontation, Jim confides in Sebastian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

The front door creaked open as Sebastian entered the sprawling residence he and Jim shared. Looking around, he didn’t immediately see his spouse.

“Hello?” the sniper called out. “I’m home early, sweetheart. I thought maybe we could have a date night, if you’re feeling up to it.”

He received no response.

“Jimmy?”

Still nothing.

_Hmm._

Seb ventured down the hall, on a mission to locate the mastermind.

He checked Moriarty’s office, knowing that the man often spent a good deal of time there. Unfortunately, it was empty. He was about to leave the room when something caught his attention. On Jim’s desk laid a document labeled _‘Last Will & Testament.’_

Curious, he reached for the paperwork and began paging through it. The title didn’t lie— this was definitely a written account of his mate’s final wishes.

Panic set in. _When did Jim have a will drawn up? Why is he going over it now? Is something wrong and he hasn’t told me? If so, what does that mean for the babies? He’d have disclosed if his health was in crisis, right?_

Moran’s worry was rapidly spiraling out of control. His breathing grew heavy as he imagined the worst possible scenario. Ordinarily, he prided himself on keeping a cool head, but this had taken him off guard.

“Tiger?” a voice uttered from behind. Jim was perched in the doorway. “I didn’t hear you come in.” He wheeled towards his desk, locking eyes with the frantic alpha.

“Why do you have a will?” Sebastian demanded. “And why is it sitting out in the open? Did you want me to find it?”

“No, I didn’t mean to leave it unattended. I was reviewing my will to see what needed to be updated in light of the twins’ impending birth. Funnily enough, they seemed to think that was their cue to punch me in the bladder. So I had to take a bathroom break.”

“Answer my original question. Why do you have a will in the first place?”

“Because I’ve got a huge amount of assets to manage,” he stated. “It’s smart to provide formal instructions on how I want them distributed and dealt with upon my demise.”

“Don’t use that word! I suffered through your passing once. I won't do it again.”

“Tiger, hush. You’re acting like you didn’t know I had a will and testament. Surely you saw it when you broke into my drawer all those months ago?”

Seb was quiet for a moment. He had indeed breached Jim’s private drawer when the Irishman went missing. However, he didn’t recall uncovering this particular document.

“I didn’t see it, no. But I drank a lot while you were gone,” the assassin admitted. “It’s possible I may have overlooked it in an inebriated haze.” He paused, thinking about what his husband had said regarding an update to the will. “You mentioned you were planning to include the babies in your… _wishes_?”

Jim nodded. “Yes, Essie and Eddie are my heirs. Should anything happen to me, I want to ensure that you and our children will be well taken care of.”

“You think something’s going to ‘happen’ to you?” Moran shakily inquired.

“I certainly hope not, but with the myriad of medical issues I’ve experienced, one never knows.”

“Please don’t talk like that, Magpie. It’s important to stay positive. Whatever ensues, you’ll recover.”

“I’d like to believe that’s true, but frankly…” he trailed off, his anxiety rising.

“But what?”

“Nothing,” the genius replied. “Never mind.”

“No, tell me.”

“Leave it alone, Seb. I said it was nothing and I meant it.”

“I refuse to let you shut me out. Your concerns are my concerns. We’re in this together. So just spit it out, for fuck’s sake.”  

The consulting criminal sneered. “Fine. You want me to finish that sentence? I will,” he spat. “I’d like to believe I’ll recover from any issue that comes my way, but I’m terrified I won’t make it through delivery. The closer I get to my due date, the more scared I become.” Even now, a chill ran down his spine as he thought of it. “Are you satisfied? Delighted to have gotten a confession out of your cowardly omega?” 

“Jimmy, stop! Do _not_ put words in my mouth. I wanted to learn what was troubling you so that I could help. I _love_ you, dammit. And for the record, you couldn’t be cowardly if you tried. It’s an impossibility.”

Moriarty fell silent, his anger and bravado fading in the shadow of his partner’s earnestness.

“There’s no shame in being afraid of a procedure you’ve never undergone before,” Seb continued. “Surgery can be scary. I get that. When I had my tonsils taken out, I cried like a baby.”

“How old were you then?”

“Seven.”

“See? You were a child, it’s natural you’d be afraid. But me…I’m a grown man. I’ve got no excuse.”

“Excuses aren’t necessary. You have a right to your feelings at any age, fear included.”

“No,” he objected. “The most dangerous man in London isn’t granted that luxury. I have to be impervious without exception. Doubly so, when the fear in question is wholly irrational.”

“So you understand, then, that C-sections are actually quite safe? And considering how experienced your doctor is, the risk of complications is low.”

“Of course I understand,” Jim bleated. “That’s what makes it irrational. I k _now_ the facts on an intellectual level, yet I’m still plagued by dread.”

The sniper contemplated his husband’s predicament. “Maybe if we discuss the problem, it will seem less scary,” he suggested. “What is it about the delivery process that frightens you most?”

“All of it. Being cut open. Losing too much blood. Struggling to maintain steady vitals. There are a million different things that could go wrong.”

“Fair point, but the same might be said of day-to-day living. You could step outside and be struck by lightning. It’s highly unlikely, but the slim possibility is there. The key is not to let such remote ‘what ifs’ control you.”

The consulting criminal sighed in frustration. “Struck by lightning? That’s a ridiculous example that only occurs in cartoons. But death during childbirth…it’s real, Seb. And not just in underdeveloped countries. I’m talking right here in Great Britain.”

Moran gazed at his mate, clues clicking together in his head. “Magpie, this is starting to sound personal. Forgive me if I’m off base, but did you know someone who died that way?”

Jim hesitated, the look on his face confirming Seb’s suspicion. “It’s…I…yes,” he stammered.

“Who was it, honey?” the sniper asked softly. He sat down as well, so that the two of them were at eye level.

“Sarah Milford,” he whispered. “Or ‘Mrs. Milford,' and later, ‘mum.’”

Sebastian furrowed a brow in confusion. “What?”

“You know how I grew up in foster care.”

“Yes, kitten, I do.”

“Well, I lived with the Milfords for almost a full year. It was the longest I ever stayed with a family. I took a shine to them and they liked me, too. In fact, they wanted to adopt me,” Moriarty revealed. “I was so happy, Seb. Truly over the moon about it. And then, to everyone’s surprise, Mrs. Milford got pregnant. Nobody thought she could have kids because of endometriosis, so this was something of a miracle.”

Seb nodded, listening with rapt attention.

“At first, I was worried that if she had a new baby, she wouldn’t want me. But she swore it made no difference— she’d raise us both. I believed her, and I was thrilled to be getting an entire family at once. I’d have a mum and dad, grandparents, and a sibling. It was a dream come true.”

“That sounds lovely. What happened?”

“She…she went…” Jim struggled to keep composure, barely holding back the barrage of sadness that so desperately yearned for release. “She went into premature labor and began hemorrhaging,” he grimly informed. “They gave her a transfusion, but it wasn’t enough. In the end, she bled to death.”

At that, the Irishman could take no more. Tears flowed freely down his pale cheeks and his breathing hitched. “The baby died, too,” he said between sobs. “It turned out to be a girl. I would’ve had a sister.”

Sebastian leaned over, embracing his distraught omega in a hug. “I’m so sorry, Jimmy. That’s awful.”

“There’s more,” he warned. “Mr. Milford couldn’t handle what happened. He had a breakdown and…” Moriarty shuddered, long-buried memories flooding his mind at a brutal pace. “He said he couldn’t take care of me, and he brought me back to the orphanage. I lost everything all at once. No more family, no more dreams.”

“Jesus Christ,” the sniper muttered in disgust. _How could someone do that to a child?_   Seb understood the potency of grief, but for a man to have made the promise of becoming one’s father, only to rescind the offer…that was beyond fucked up.

“I refused to let anyone see how upset I was, but whenever I was alone, the waterworks wouldn’t stop. I cried about it for months,” he confessed. “I never wanted to feel that way again. From that point on, I decided no one would ever get to me.”

“Oh, Magpie. I wish I had the power to undo everything you’ve been through. You deserve so much better than what life’s given you.”

“Thank you, Tiger.” He begrudgingly pulled himself from Seb’s arms so that he could look into the man’s eyes. “Now you know why I’m so worried about delivering the twins. I don’t want to leave them…or you, for that matter.”

“Believe me, I won’t let you leave us. I’m going to be right there by your side when our children are born. We’re doing this together,” the former colonel reassured. “If you get scared, you can just squeeze my hand.”

“That’s a fine idea in theory, but I’m afraid I’d wind up shattering some bones. Wouldn’t be wise to damage your assets.”

“You’ve got a decent grip, darling, but I doubt you’d break anything.”

“Hey,” the genius protested, “I’m plenty strong.”

“For an omega, maybe,” Sebastian teased.  

Jim swatted his spouse on the shoulder. “Cheeky bastard.”

“Yes, I am,” he said with a grin. “But remember, I’m _your_ cheeky bastard.”

“That’s right. _Mine_.”

“Always, kitten. Always yours.”

Moriarty’s gaze grew intense. Soon, his lips found their way to Moran’s own— they were warm, supple, and full of want. He needed this. Needed the passion and affirmation. Needed the confidence and love. With his alpha’s support, he could conquer anything.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	72. A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed – Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim helps Ian through a difficult situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains references to domestic violence. 
> 
> ******************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Jim was worried. It was almost time for the midway break at his MOPS meeting and Ian still hadn’t shown up. It wasn’t like him to miss a session. If he didn’t arrive soon, the consulting criminal would send out a text message.

As if the universe had decided to answer Moriarty directly, Ian walked into the room. The young man appeared slightly disheveled and wore sunglasses— strange, considering it was after dark.

“Look who the cat dragged in,” Jack quipped. “Fashionably late this evening, aye?”

“I got busy,” he tersely replied. His voice sounded wearier than usual, and perhaps a bit on edge.

“Cool specs,” another attendee said. “But why are you wearing them indoors and at night?”

“I’ve got a migraine. The lights make it worse.”

“My mother used to get terrible migraines,” Scott noted, injecting himself into the conversation. “Sometimes they were so bad, she’d stay in bed all day, heaving into a bucket.”

“What a coincidence,” Jack spoke. “My mum spent most days the same way, only it wasn’t on account of a medical condition— she was just hungover.”

“You know, I can never tell when you’re kidding and when you’re being serious,” Simon, the newest group member, commented.

“That’s my life’s goal. Always keep people guessing.”

Finally, the MOPS coordinator addressed Ian. “It’s wonderful to see you here. I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thanks.”

“I think this is an ideal point to stop and hold our intermission,” he announced. “As a special treat, I’ve brought chocolate cheesecake for us to enjoy. And in case anyone is lactose intolerant, there’s also Dutch apple pie.”

The group began to disperse, with many heading straight for the dessert table. Jim, however, opted to wheel on over to his employee.

“Hellooooo,” he greeted.

“Hey.”

“You don’t seem too upbeat tonight.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“I bet you do. Like trying to figure out how to best hide the truth from everyone.”

“Huh?”

“You’re good at reading body language,” Jim remarked, “but so am I. And noooobody beats me at my own game.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do. That little spiel about having a migraine was bollocks. You’re not wearing those shades because of a headache,” he asserted. “No, you’re hiding something.”

Ian was silent, unable to deny the accusation.

“What’s going on?” Moriarty pressed.

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Not at liberty to say?” he repeated mockingly. “Are you suddenly 007, dealing in classified information?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Actually, I’d wager it’s pretty simple.” He leaned over and pulled the sunglasses off the teen’s face. Just as Jim suspected, he’d been concealing a black eye. 

“Give those back!” Ian demanded, wrenching them from his boss’ hand and putting them back on. “God, I hope no one saw that.”

“Don’t worry, they’re too distracted by cheesecake to be looking at us.” And really, the genius wasn’t being facetious— about a half dozen pregnant omegas were swarming to get a piece. “So,” he said, turning his attention back to the battered youth, “are you going to tell me who did that to you, or shall we continue to drag out the charade?”

“I can’t talk about it here. I won’t risk someone overhearing us.”

“Well, I’d suggest we take a walk and discuss it, but I’ve been strongly advised to stay off my feet.”

“Hmm,” the younger man paused, contemplating the situation. “How about I do the walking and push you along?”

“Works for me.”

The two exited the meeting room and began down the hall at a leisurely pace. Once they were far enough away from prying ears, Ian attempted to open a line of dialogue with the mastermind.

“So…I don’t know where to start.”

“From the beginning is generally a good place.”

“That would open up a massive can of worms. I think I’ll just stick with describing what happened tonight.”

“All right, let’s hear it.”

Ian took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable. “There’s no nice way to put this, so I won’t bother sugarcoating it,” he stated. “My baby’s father showed up at my flat and we had a confrontation. It seems he heard from a mutual acquaintance that I was pregnant, and he wanted to see if the rumor was true.”

“Oh dear.”

“Yeah. I was completely unprepared to deal with him, but I had no choice. When I refused to allow him inside, he shoved his way in and clocked me clean across the face. I threatened to call the cops, and that finally got him to leave. But he warned me he’d be back.”

“Bloody hell,” Moriarty exclaimed. “That’s utterly unacceptable. Anyone who would dare hit a pregnant omega doesn’t deserve to live.”

“I agree. I lied and told him it wasn’t his baby, but I don’t think he believed me. Now I’m worried about what will happen when he returns.”

“Obviously, it’s no longer safe for you and your unborn child to live in that apartment. You need to vacate the premises immediately.”    

“I’d like to, but where would I go? I don’t have enough money saved up yet to rent a better space, and all my belongings are at the flat. Granted, I don’t own much of material value, but I’ve got some sentimental items I’d prefer not to lose.”

There was a brief silence as Jim pondered an idea. “I keep several properties throughout London. You can stay at one of them.”

“Jim…are you serious? That’s a hell of a gesture.”

He shrugged. “It’s nothing. Consider it an early Christmas present.”

“When could I start moving in?”

“Tomorrow, if you want. I’ll make the arrangements and have someone send for your things.”

“You’re willing to transport my stuff to the new place? Really?” Ian was astonished by the consulting criminal’s generosity.

“Yes, really,” he assured. “I suppose I can’t send you back to your current flat this evening, either. Not with the risk of your ex turning up to harass you. Why don’t you come home with me and Seb after the meeting? It’s been ages since we’ve had an overnight guest.”

The young man was truly flabbergasted. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. How can I repay you?”

“Live happily,” he replied. “Have a healthy baby. Raise him or her with the love we never got growing up in foster care.”

“I intend to.”

“Good. Now I need to run this past my husband as a formality, and we’ll be set.”

“Do you think he’d say no?”

Moriarty chuckled darkly at the notion. “Say no to me? Never. And even if he did, it wouldn’t make a difference. I do what I want, when I want, and he knows it.”

The teen smiled. “You’re quite sassy, Jim. I admire that. Not all omegas are so bold.”

“What can I say? They broke the mold when they made me.”

Eventually, the pair reached the foyer where Sebastian sat waiting for his mate. He shut the book he was reading as he saw them approach.

“Midway break?” the sniper asked.

“Yep. And just so you’re aware, Ian’s sleeping over tonight. Then tomorrow, I’m having him moved into one of my unused apartments.”

“Oh? What’s wrong with his current place?”

“He had a run-in with some… _vermin_. It’s not safe there.”

Seb nodded, catching Jim’s meaning. “Understood, darling.”

“Splendid. Glad we’re all on the same page.”

“Wait,” their young employee interjected. “I’ll require a toothbrush, deodorant, soap— those kinds of things.”

“I’ve got plenty of extra toiletries you can use.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s true,” the assassin attested. “He keeps the guest rooms stocked like a bloody hotel. If we ever decide to switch careers, I think the hospitality industry would be a perfect fit. We could just rename the estate ‘Moriarty-Moran Manor’ and open it to the public as a bed and breakfast. We’ve already got the accoutrements for it.”

“Hush. It’s not that bad.”      

“Honey, I’ve seen you put complimentary mints on the pillows. It _is_ that bad,” he teased.

Ian laughed. “I like being around you guys. You’re very sweet to each other.”

“Thanks,” Seb spoke. People often assumed he and Jim were little more than debauched maniacs. Perhaps sometimes that was true, but they were also loving and affectionate; playful and endearing. There were many sides to their relationship, and it was nice to have someone recognize that.

The genius checked his watch. “We ought to head back. I want a piece of cheesecake before the rest of the group has devoured it.”

“Me too,” Ian concurred. “I think I saw Jack sneaking off with two slices as we walked out the door.”

“Then we must make haste. Times like these, I wish I had a motorized chair.”

The omegas ventured back to their meeting room, leaving Sebastian behind.

Meanwhile, it took every ounce of fortitude the sniper had to suppress his laughter at the mental image of Jim riding a power chair. Maybe, just maybe, Santa would include one under the tree this Christmas. 

 

 

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	73. A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed – Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Ian have a revealing conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains references to domestic/sexual violence. Absolutely nothing graphic, but I thought I should note it anyway. 
> 
> *********************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Sooooo, what do you think of the place?” Jim eagerly awaited a response from Ian after having just given him a grand tour of his house. They concluded the showing in the guest bedroom where the young man would be staying.

“You have a truly beautiful home. At the baby shower, I only got to see downstairs. Now, looking at the rest, I’m in awe,” he declared. “The nursery was particularly stunning.”

The mastermind smiled. “Thank you. A lot of effort went into planning and decorating the twins’ quarters. I wanted it to be absolutely perfect.”

“You’ve more than succeeded. I hope I can give my little one a nursery that’s even half as nice.”

“Well good news— you can afford to, now that you’re working for me.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.” He paused, walking over to a series of framed pictures on the dresser. They were of Jim and Sebastian. “I noticed you guys keep photos of yourselves in every room.”

“ _I_ keep photos of us in every room,” the genius clarified. “Seb thinks it’s a bit much, but I like seeing us together no matter where I am in the house. These days, I find it increasingly comforting,” he admitted.

“I’m sure it is,” Ian said, a twinge of sadness creeping into his voice. “Comforting, I mean.”

“Yeah.”

Moriarty observed that the youth was depressed, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. During pregnancy, an omega had certain urges and instincts that could only be fulfilled by their alpha. Contrary to popular misconception, such needs were not of an expressly sexual nature. Rather, they were based on an innate yearning for domesticity and protection.

In the old days, a mateless expectant omega was someone to be pitied— a cautionary figure accompanied by the unspoken caption, ‘Don’t let this happen to you.’ Things were different in modern times, but even so, it was rarely an ideal situation.   

“You and your husband are lucky to have each other,” Ian stated. “It seems like he treats you well.”

“Sebby’s the best. I’ve often wondered how the universe saw fit to give me a man as amazing as him. He’s the light of my life, but don’t tell him I said that or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Good.”

Jim was quiet for a few seconds, his face growing animated as a thought occurred to him. “I’ve got a fabulous idea. I’ll have Seb prepare us hot chocolate, and then we can chat in front of the fireplace. Oh, it will be delightfully cozy,” he enthused. “I’ll fill you in on what I’m getting that gorgeous beast for Christmas.”

Ian chuckled at the consulting criminal’s choice of words. “Sounds like a plan.”

Without further ado, Jim led the way to the elevator.

*********

“Two hot cocoas served just as you requested, darling.” Sebastian carried both mugs on a silver platter, setting the tray down in front of Moriarty and his guest.

“Wow, this looks decadent,” Ian marveled. The piping beverage featured whipped cream, chocolate shavings, and as an added treat, a peppermint candy cane.

“I know what my Magpie likes,” the sniper remarked.

“Ooh, honey, you sure do. Get those lips down here and kiss me.”

Moran did as commanded, bending to meet his partner’s mouth. He wanted to savor the act for all it was worth. Deepen it, prolong it, lose himself in the moment completely.

But…they had a visitor in their midst, one who also happened to be an employee. _Grr._

Seb pulled away. “If either of you need anything, send me a text. I’ll be in the armory, cleaning my guns.”

The two watched on as the sexy assassin exited the room. His jeans clung to the curve of his buttocks in a spectacular fashion, leaving little to the imagination. It was enough to make any red-blooded omega swoon.

Ian sighed wistfully. “Damn.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

A brief silence fell over the pair as they sipped their hot cocoa and basked in the warm glow of the hearth. The younger man wanted to say something, but was beset by nervousness. Finally, he mustered the courage to speak.

“I’m surprised your mate didn’t ask about my black eye.” Ian had removed his sunglasses shortly after they arrived at the house. He assumed there would be questions once Seb saw the nasty bruise.

“I warned him of your injury while you were in the bathroom earlier. I didn’t want him to see it without a heads-up,” the mastermind explained. “He tends to get upset over violence against omegas, and rightly so. It makes me angry, too.”

Boy, was that an understatement. Jim fully intended to get the name of the man who’d accosted his protégé. He would enjoy ordering Seb to beat the hell out of him.

“I’m sorry,” the youth shyly muttered. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this mess. I’d hoped never to see Luke again.”

_Luke._ Now he had a first name. It was a start.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Moriarty replied. “He had no right to do what he did. It’s inexcusable.”

“He’s had no right to do a lot of things, but that hasn’t stopped him so far.”

The genius frowned. “I gather this isn’t the first time he’s harmed you?”

Ian averted his gaze downward, reluctant to make eye contact. “You’re right…he’s hurt me before.”

“Fucking wanker.” Jim _hated_ alphas who acted like it was still the dark ages, thinking they could get away with treating an omega however they pleased. This was an enlightened era, for fuck’s sake.

“He absolutely is. You’ll get no argument from me.”

“At least you had the sense to realize it was a bad situation. When I was in foster care, I saw a lot of people in terrible relationships who refused to admit the truth.”

“I did too,” the younger man lamented. “I’m not sure I can accept much credit in this case, though. What Luke and I had wasn’t exactly a relationship.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t correct you when you referred to him as my ‘ex,’ but honestly, I would never call him my boyfriend.”

“Excuse me if I’m being intrusive, but what was he to you, then?” The consulting criminal was genuinely curious. Ian didn’t seem like the type to enter into a fuck buddy arrangement— he was far too timid for that.

“We went on a total of three dates. The first was a quick meetup for coffee, the second was a trip to the bowling alley, and the third…well, I’d really rather not discuss how that one went. Let’s just say I won’t make the mistake of inviting a man I barely know up to my apartment again.”

Jim’s expression darkened at the boy’s tacit admission. This was worse than he’d imagined. No wonder Ian reacted so negatively when someone in their MOPS group had inquired about his baby’s father. 

“I apologize for burdening you with this. I don’t usually open up about these sorts of things. I guess I feel like I can trust you.”

In a flash, Jim was taken aback. How long had it been since someone spoke those words to him? He was James Moriarty, criminal extraordinaire. People didn’t trust him— not if they were smart. Yet somehow, hearing the statement come from Ian, he was surprisingly touched.

“Thank you, I’m glad to hear it.”

“I should be the one giving thanks. You’ve been nothing but kind to me from the get-go. I’m not used to that.”

“And I’m not used to being this nice to another person. Besides Seb, that is.”

“This is new territory for us both.”

“Indeed.”

He contemplated if he should press the teen for more information regarding Luke. He seriously wanted to go after the bastard. Maybe he could get away with posing one more question…

“Hey, Ian?”

“Yes?”

“Where did you and your baby’s father meet? Was it at work or school? Or someplace else altogether?”

“It was a pub near campus,” he answered. “Luke tends bar at _The Golden Anchor._ ”

_Bingo._ The mastermind had a name and a location of employment. He could officially send Seb out to fuck him up.

“Jim, can we talk about something else?”

“Of course.”

“Tell me what you’re getting your husband for Christmas,” he insisted. “I’m all ears.”

Moriarty grinned. “Welllllll…earlier this year I managed to track down Sebastian’s estranged brother, Severin. This was a significant gesture because Sev was thought to be his only living relative. Turns out, his sibling has a wife and child, so there’s been a slight addition to the family.”

“That’s wonderful,” Ian excitedly remarked.  

“Yes, it is. Unfortunately, they’re way down in Australia.”

“Ooh, Australia. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“It’s a fun place, but the 22-hour flights back and forth are beyond boooooring.”

“Wow, that’s long.”

“Excruciatingly so,” the Irishman quipped. “I digress. This Christmas, I’m flying the three of them to London and they’ll be staying with us for an entire week. Isn’t that fantastic? I can’t wait to see the look on Seb’s face when they arrive at our doorstep.”

“I love it, Jim. When I suggested you give him a gift that revolved around family, I didn’t expect this. It’s brilliant.”

“I know, and it’s been hell having to keep it a secret. Just telling you now is something of a relief.” He paused, his mind already abuzz with a new preoccupation. “What do you suppose he’s getting me?”

It was time for Ian to put on his best poker face. He dare not spoil Sebastian’s arboreal surprise.

“Hmm, that’s a tough one.”

“Has he dropped any hints? Maybe mentioned stopping at a particular store, or received branded packaging in the office mail?

“Not that I can recall, sorry.”

The consulting criminal eyeballed his guest. “You wouldn’t be fibbing to me, would you?”

“Never,” he nervously avowed.

But Moriarty could see through the guise. Ordinarily, he despised being lied to. People had died for committing that very offense. This, however, was a special circumstance. It was possible Sebastian had sworn him to secrecy.  

“Has my darling other half gotten to you, Ian? He can be incredibly persuasive. All those taut muscles and the deep blue eyes. That sexy grin and strawberry blonde hair. He could convince a person to do _annnnything_ — including keep secrets.”

“I…well…what?”

Jim sported a wicked smirk. “I suspect Sebby’s conferred with you about my gift. You know what it is, but don’t want to give the truth away. Am I right?” he asked the anxious young omega.  

Ian’s face showed deep confliction. Both Jim and Sebastian were his bosses. But the genius was his friend, too. He didn’t want to break either of their confidences. This was maddening. What should he do? What—

“Relaaaaaax,” Moriarty said. “I’m just teasing.”

“Oh, thank god.”

The mastermind chuckled. “Every year, I figure out what Seb’s getting me for Christmas. This season he’s brought a third party into the mix— you. It’s a means of upping the ante, perhaps,” Jim mused. “He probably thinks he’s being clever, but he forgot one salient point.”

“Which is?”

“That I relish a challenge. He wants to make it harder for me to guess what it is, but his efforts only add fuel my fire. This is a game of deduction and I play to win.”   

“You approach things from an interesting perspective,” Ian noted. “It’s inspiring.”

“I do pride myself on thinking outside the box.”

At that, Jim stared down into his mug. “I could use more cocoa,” he declared. “How about you?”   

“I wouldn’t say no to a refill.”

“It’s settled, then.”

The consulting criminal grabbed his phone and began composing a text.

 

_JM_

_Need more hot chocolate, ASAP._

Jim paused, surreptitiously glancing at the nearby teen.  

_P.S. – Also need to talk to you about Ian. Have details on his ‘vermin.’ Will be sending you out to deal with the problem soon._

 

_SM_

_Okay._

 

 

Seb slipped his mobile device back into his pocket as he prepared to fetch more warm refreshments for Jim. On his way to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but ponder the ominous postscript he’d received. Something was afoot and it didn’t sound good.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect some fierce Seb action in the next chapter.


	74. A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed – Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian is sent on a challenging assignment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains graphic violence, sexual content, and mention of rape. Reader discretion is advised. 
> 
> ***********************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

It was a busy day for Sebastian. This morning he was tasked with overseeing the transport of Ian’s belongings from his old apartment to the new flat Jim had generously provided. It was decided that the young man would move into a property located near headquarters, to cut down on his commute. So far, the operation was going well.

“That’s the last box,” one of the laborers announced.

“Yeah,” another mover agreed. “The kid didn’t have much stuff. Made for an easy haul.”

Seb looked around, noting that the amount of items brought over were fairly sparse. Thankfully, Jim already had furniture in the apartment to help spruce things up and give it a homier atmosphere.   

“You’ve done a fine job, gentlemen.” The sniper pulled out his wallet and handed them each a £100 note. “Merry Christmas, compliments of Mr. Moriarty.”

“Thank you, sir. This is more than we expected.”

“‘Tis the season, right?” Seb jauntily remarked. It made him feel good to play ‘big spender’ this time of year. A bit of charity during the holidays seemed like a noble expenditure.

When the laborers left, Moran took out his phone to send a text message.

 

_SM_

_Mission complete. Everything has been transferred to the new place._

 

_JM_

_Excellent._

_You know what’s next on the agenda._

 

_SM_

_I do. Are you sure about this?_

 

_JM_

_Yes._

 

_SM_

_Killing the guy would be easier…for me._

 

_JM_

_Stick to the plan, Tiger._

 

_SM_

_Fine. I’ll text you when it’s done._

 

_JM_

_Wait— Sebby?_

 

_SM_

_Yeah?_

 

_JM_

_I know I’m asking a lot here. It’ll be worth it, I promise._

 

_SM_

_Hope so._

 

They ended their conversation and Seb proceeded to check the time. It was a little past 11 a.m.

“Pub should be open now,” he muttered.

With a heavy sigh, he exited the flat and headed to his car. He had misgivings about this assignment. He was all for getting revenge against Luke, but what Jim wanted him to do…

The assassin swallowed down his apprehension, trying to focus on the positives. He would enjoy the primary part of the plan and the end result. It was merely the prelude that gave him pause. If he could just make it through the unsavory start, it’d be smooth sailing from there on out.

Never had so much hinged upon the weight of an ‘if.’

*********

Sebastian entered _The Golden Anchor,_ quickly scanning the room for any signs of his target. Thanks to the business’s Facebook page, they were able to find the father of Ian’s baby with relative ease. There was only one ‘Luke’ who worked at the establishment— 34-year-old Lucas Darrow, originally from Birmingham, but currently located in London. His profile made him out to be an affable, decent-looking guy with a penchant for the Aston Villa football team.

_Forgot to include ‘douchebag rapist’ in the info box. Gotta love social media._

The sniper really hoped that this was Luke’s shift and he wouldn’t have to linger there too long. He had plans to pick up Jim’s present later in the day. He’d found a botanical garden willing to sell him the exact type of sapling he wanted to give his mate. It was a long-lived variety guaranteed to grow for at least fifty years. The tree would likely outlive them both, but that was the point. It would blossom along with their family.

_There he is._

Seb spotted the son of a bitch coming out of the kitchen carrying a supply of glassware. He was approximately 6’2”, dark-haired, and sported several days’ worth of stubble. Moran might’ve even considered him mildly attractive if not for the fact that he knew what he’d done to Ian.

Now came the hard part. The segment of Jim’s plan that made him want to disobey a direct order for the first time in years. He had to lure the man into a compromising situation. In other words, he’d need to pretend he wanted to fuck him in order to set the trap.

_Here goes nothing._

The assassin saddled up to the bar. No one was sitting in that particular section— a handful of patrons were assembled elsewhere, at various tables and booths.

“Hey,” the pervert greeted with a smile, “what can I get you?”

“A fast car, a trip to Mykonos, and box seats at an Aston Villa game,” he replied with a wink. “But in lieu of those, I’ll take Guinness on tap.”

The bartender chuckled. “Good answer. You’re an Aston Villa fan, huh?” His interest was piqued.

“Never miss a game. Wish they were having a better season, but don’t we all?”

“Amen to that,” he agreed.

As the man slid Sebastian his drink, the former colonel made sure to caress his hand ever so slightly and make eye contact. It was a move borrowed from Moran’s personal playbook, one he knew worked well on men and women alike. 

Indeed, this had the desired effect. The look on the other man’s face denoted genuine intrigue.  

“I’ve tended bar for a while, but I’ve never seen you here before. The name’s Luke, by the way.”

“Hello, Luke. I’m Seb,” he huskily intoned. “Just blew into town recently.”

“Where from?”

“Lots of places. I do my fair share of traveling.”

“Guess it’s lucky that of all the pubs in London, you chose to visit this one.”

Moran grinned broadly. _Lucky, ha. If this goes according to plan, you’re really going to regret saying that._ “I decided to take a chance,” the blonde stated. “I always enjoy good drinks, good food, and good company. So far, I’ve already found two out of the three right here.”

“You’re quite a flirt, aren’t you?”

“I prefer to think of myself as exceptionally friendly.”

“I’ll bet you make new buddies by the day. Or is it by the hour?”

“Suggesting I’m a rent boy? Ouch.” _Fucking arsehole. If I were a whore, I’d have better taste than the likes of you._

“I mean no offense by it,” Luke claimed. “You’re cheeky, handsome, and transient. What else am I to presume?”

“Maybe I’m just a man who wants to see the world and have as much fun as possible while doing so.”

The scumbag smirked. “Well, then, I think we might have something in common besides a favorite football team.”

Taking a deep breath, Sebastian summoned the most seductive gaze he could under the circumstance. “Wanna have fun together? Seeing as how we’re of the same mind.”

Luke leaned across the bar and whispered, “I can tell you’re an alpha, like me. I’m cool with that, but just so we’re clear, _I_ do the fucking. Never the other way around. Is that going to be a problem?”

The sniper stared him straight in the eye, unflinching. “Not at all. I’m one hell of a switch-hitter.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he lasciviously spoke. Luke paused, looking around. “We haven’t hit the lunch rush yet, so I could probably get someone from the kitchen to come out and cover my post.”

“Wonderful. Where do you want to go?”

“I keep a flat above the pub,” he informed. “Give me a minute so I can find another person to man the bar.”

“Sure thing. I’ll be waiting.” For added appeal, Seb gently bit his lower lip while flashing a sultry half-smile.

Luke turned and walked into the kitchen, momentarily leaving Moran to his own devices.

_Jim’s going to owe me BIG for this,_ he thought. _If I can get through the next part, then the worst will be over._

He discreetly patted himself, checking to make certain his weapons were in order. He had a gun tucked into the waistband of his pants, a switchblade hidden in one back pocket, and a set of brass knuckles concealed in the other. Seb was well-prepared.

*********

“Easy does it, Tiger,” Luke said in reaction to the assassin shoving him against the wall and kissing him aggressively.

Sebastian’s blood ran cold. “What did you call me?”

“Huh?”

“What did you just call me?” he repeated, the familiar term of endearment catching him off guard. 

“Tiger,” the man answered. “Why does it sound like that bothers you?”

“Because…because I had an ex-boyfriend who used to refer to me as that,” he lied. “It was a bad breakup.”

“Ah, duly noted.”

_Thank god he bought it. Gotta keep a cool head._

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Luke declared. “I am, too.”

Seb got back into ‘character,’ eyeing the man with a smoldering gleam. “Let’s fix that, shall we?” He peeled off his own shirt, not wanting Luke to touch him any more than necessary. He now stood bare-chested, having omitted the usual dog tags and wedding band he often wore on a chain beneath his clothes. This fucker didn’t need to see them.

“Nice guns.”

“Excuse me?” The blonde’s heart skipped a beat.

“Your biceps,” he continued, “they’re well-defined. I like that.”

“Right,” Moran responded, breathing a sigh of relief. _Just a bit of harmless slang._

“You seem awfully nervous all of a sudden.”

_Bloody hell. Can’t let him see through the guise. Must relax._

“I’m fine, I swear. It’s just been a little while since I’ve seen this kind of action. I dare not disappoint.”

“Been a while? Really?” Luke inquired. He ran his hand across the firm expanse of Seb’s chest, teasing his nipples as he went along. “I can’t believe a sexy guy like you would ever have a dry spell.”

“I decided to try celibacy on for size. It didn’t agree with me.”

Luke laughed. “I’d imagine not.” He swiftly removed his top, rendering them both shirtless. “Time for you to lose those pants.”

“Well, actually, I thought maybe I could take yours off first. Slide them down and… _service_ you.” The blue-eyed assassin licked his lips and leaned in, whispering breathily. “Wait ‘til you feel what my hot, wet mouth can do.”

With a lecherous grunt, the man guided Sebastian to his bed. He undid the fly of his jeans and laid back on the mattress. “Have at it, handsome.”

_Almost time,_ Moran reminded himself. Things were going to plan, and he had this douchebag exactly where he wanted him.

Descending onto the bed, he began peppering Luke’s neck with kisses. He snaked his way down the man’s sturdy frame, pausing when he reached the forbidden trail of hair leading from his navel to areas not yet exposed.

“Are you ready?” Seb asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Perfect,” he said with a devilish smirk. “Close your eyes and clear your mind. I want you to really feel this.”

“Okay.” He did as instructed.

The former colonel made short work of pulling off his target’s pants, tossing the denim aside. Luke’s erection pressed against the fabric of his briefs, strained and leaking as it longed for release. Moran would set it free, all right.

Sebastian tugged down the man’s undergarments, revealing his thoroughly aroused length.

_Now._

In a flash, the sniper gripped Luke’s cock with one hand, using it as leverage to keep him pinned down. With the other hand, he grabbed the switchblade from his pocket and plunged it into the man’s thigh, careful not to hit a major artery. The last thing he needed was for this son of a bitch to bleed out.

Luke screamed in agony as his flesh was pierced. He tried to throw Seb off him, but the tight grasp he had on his penis prevented that from happening.

“FUCK! Are you crazy?!”

Moran’s smirk transformed into a full-blown sharky smile. “Maybe,” he gleefully replied. “Wanna find out?”

The look on the man’s face conveyed pure terror.

“NO! Let me go!”

“I wonder, did Ian say that when you held him down and forcibly fucked him in his own apartment?”

“Ian? What’s he got to do with this?”

“Everything.”

“That prig was more trouble than he was worth. Tried to keep me from finding out he was having my baby.”

Seb twisted the blade in Luke’s thigh, eliciting another scream.

“Listen here, you rapist piece of shite— that baby is Ian’s, _not_ yours. You’ve forfeited the right to any and all parental privilege. You’re to stay as far away from him as possible. If, by random chance, you so much as see him walking down the street, you cross the road and head in the opposite direction without uttering a word.”

“No!” he hissed. “Sod off, psycho!”

“Guess you want to do this the hard way. Fine by me.”

The assassin slipped on his brass knuckles with one hand while still gripping Luke’s now-flaccid cock.

Before the pinned pervert realized what was happening, Sebastian’s armored fist made direct contact with his balls. The force was so great, a testicle audibly ruptured on impact.

Luke’s body seized in indescribable agony. His mouth opened, but no sound came out, the pain transcending verbal communication.    

Seb released the man’s penis, knowing that the physical trauma would act as its own temporary paralyzer. Just to be safe, however, he reached for the gun in his waistband, pointing it at him.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Moran announced. “Not only will you stay far away from Ian and _his_ baby at all costs, you’ll also send cash every month to a P.O. box where he can collect the money and put it towards raising the child. You’ll do this for the next eighteen years, without fail. Should you miss even one installment, I will personally hunt you down and give you the kind of experience that’ll leave you begging for the sweet release of death. And just in case you think I’m bluffing, know that I work for James Moriarty, a man whose reputation most certainly speaks for itself. IS. THAT. CLEAR?”

Luke nodded, struggling to find his voice after the intense shock his body was put through. “Y-y-yes.”

“Be grateful I don’t kill you now. The only reason I’m not painting the wall with your brains is because one day, who knows if Ian’s child will require a blood transfusion, bone marrow, or a kidney transplant? God forbid that happens, but it’s prudent to make provisions,” Seb explained. “You’re being kept alive strictly on the basis of your genetic material. That’s it.”      

The former colonel rose from the bed and retrieved his shirt. He also took a moment to throw Luke’s discarded clothing back at him. “Here,” he spoke. “Get yourself to the hospital and maybe they can save your busted ball. Wait too long and it might need to be amputated.”

The man stared wide-eyed at Moran, absolutely horrified.

“Oh, before I forget,” Sebastian said, bending down to yank the switchblade from Luke’s thigh. “Would hate to leave this behind. It was a gift from my husband.”

As Seb made his way to the door, he abruptly stopped, deciding to offer one last parting message. “If you ever force yourself on an unwilling partner again, there will be no hiding it— I’ll find out,” he avowed. “And then I’ll take my brass knuckles to your cock. You’ll be mangled so badly, it’ll look like you fucked a meat grinder.”

He promptly exited Luke’s flat, and the building altogether, not wishing to stick around a second longer than necessary. At last, he could breathe easy, satisfied at a job well done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware that there's no such thing as a £100 note. Please suspend your disbelief.


	75. Discussions & Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian have a talk. Also, a revelation is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a "transitionary" chapter, so it might seem a little slow compared to others. Still, I think it's important to include these in-between bits.
> 
> *******************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

After a long day, Seb had finally returned home. Naturally, Jim couldn’t stop talking about the assignment he’d sent his mate on hours earlier.

“I almost wish I’d been there. You know how much I admire your handiwork,” he enthused, marveling at the fact that Moran managed to hit someone so hard, it actually ruptured the person’s testicles.

“I’ll admit, it was satisfying to hurt Luke. But I never want to ‘lure’ a target in like that again.”

“I’d rather you didn’t have to, either. This was a highly unorthodox situation. Not the kind of thing one encounters every day.”

“Thank god for that.”

“In any case, I appreciate what you did. Consider it a good deed for the holiday season.”

“Believe me, I do. “ Sebastian stretched out across the couch, propping a pillow behind his head. “Does Ian know what we’ve done yet?”

“I haven’t spoken to him, no. I wasn’t sure which of us should do the honors.”

“You’re closer to him than I am,” the blonde remarked. “I reckon it ought to be you.”

“We’re holding a MOPS meeting tomorrow night. I could speak to him then.”

“Sounds good.”

There was a brief lull in the conversation as the wheels in Jim’s head started to turn. The look he gave his spouse signified something was definitely on his mind.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Seb asked. “Or are you just going to keep staring at me for the rest of the evening?”

“I was thinking about when you got home. I peeked through the curtains and saw you leaving the shed before you came inside the house. What were you doing out there?”

 _Oh, my nosy little Magpie._ Moran had picked up the consulting criminal’s gift— a potted sapling— and was storing it in their shed for safekeeping. He’d even gone to the trouble of bringing in a space heater so that the young tree wouldn’t freeze.

“I was taking stock of our tools,” he claimed.

“For what? Are you planning to build something?”

“Maybe. Who knows?”

Moriarty eyed him shrewdly. “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s your prerogative, hon,” Seb matter-of-factly replied. He refused to reveal any information about Jim’s gift or play his games.

“Tomorrow, I might wheel myself out there and see what’s going on in the shed.”

“That’s fine, kitten.” He wasn’t too concerned— he’d padlocked the storage unit as a precaution.

Jim grumbled in frustration, his patience rapidly wearing thin. Sebastian was supposed to tell him not to investigate the shed, thereby confirming that something was secretly being hidden away there. Something like his Christmas present. But if Seb didn’t care whether he checked it or not, then perhaps that meant there was _no_ gift inside, in which case, he’d be back at square one without a single lead regarding his prezzie. It just wasn’t fair.

“You know, there aren’t very many days left until Christmas, darling. Another week and a half and the holiday will be here,” he gently reminded his mate.

“I’m well aware,” Moran stated. ”Speaking of impending dates, how are the party plans coming along?”

“Splendidly. Everything is set, and this afternoon our secret ingredient arrived— sodium pentothal.” Jim paused, an idea surfacing from the depths of his devious brain. “Tiiiiiiiger?”

“Yes?”

“You love me, correct?”

“With all my heart. You know that.” _What a strange thing to ask,_ the assassin mused.

“And you’d do anything for me?”          

“Of course. Today’s literal ball-busting is proof enough of that.” _Where’s he going with this?_

“Well, then, I should think you wouldn’t mind assisting me in a small experiment.”

Sebastian furrowed a brow and moved to sit in an upright position. “An experiment, you say?”

“Indeed. I’d like to test my newly acquired serum out on you, sweetie. Surely, that isn’t a problem.”

The former colonel’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Excuse me, what? You seriously think I would agree to be your guinea pig?”

Moriarty sighed. “No, not really. I’m just too pregnant to be stealthy right now, so I can’t simply fill up a syringe and prick you with it— I’d need your cooperation.”

“Jimmy, why would you want to use drugs on me?” he inquired, appalled at his husband’s admission. “After everything I’ve done for you, especially today.”

“Because,” he muttered, looking away.

“Because what? Answer me.”

“Because I can’t figure out what you’re getting me as a gift, okay?” the Irishman gruffly spat.

“No, it’s absolutely _not_ okay to dose someone because you want to learn what your Christmas present is. That I even have to explain this is astounding.”

Jim turned his head towards Moran again, shooting him a murderous glare. “This isn’t exactly a shining moment for me, Sebastian. I’m not proud of it.”

“Why is the issue such a big deal to you? Forgive me if I sound unkind, but you’re blowing this way out of proportion.” 

“Am I, Seb? Consider this— I’m supposed to be clever. Accordingly, I’ve cracked the mystery every year, without fail. Until now. There are only ten days left until Christmas, and I’ve yet to solve the puzzle,” he lamented, sounding noticeably frazzled. “Yesterday, I told Ian how good I am at figuring these things out. I think maybe I said it because it always used to be true, and because I wanted it to be true again.”

“Honey, stop right there. You’re the most brilliant man I’ve ever known, and I won’t have you disparaging yourself.”

“No!” Moriarty countered. “I’m frustrated and I can’t deduce things clearly anymore! You don’t know the hell of it. I can’t concentrate. I try, but all I’m able to think about is you.”

“Really, Jim?”

“Yes, it’s as if I’ve been possessed by a wave of rogue hormones,” he said in a huff. “I want you every hour of the day. It’s this instinct telling me that I should be with my alpha; that I need protection. The impulse is relentless, Seb, and I _hate_ it. I’ve never felt so clingy in all my life.”

The sniper reached out and tenderly took his mate by the hand. “We’ve been over this before, dear. An increased desire for safety and security is normal during the latter stages of omega pregnancy,” he reminded. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve had you on my mind a lot lately, too.”

“Is that so?” Jim asked somewhat skeptically.

“It is. I want to be at your side day and night, watching you like a hawk. The urge is irrepressible.”

“We’re on two sides of the same coin, then.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t try to fight it.”

“Don’t tempt me, Seb.”

“I mean it, hon. We’re both going to continue having these instincts, and they’ll only get stronger the closer you are to giving birth. The best recourse may be to accept the situation and make the best of it.”

The genius contemplated the notion. His partner presented a compelling argument. Denying their pregnancy-induced urges did seem like an exercise in futility at this point. But there was one major problem; the ‘elephant in the room,’ so to speak. What would become of Moriarty’s criminal web if neither of them were available to oversee day-to-day goings on?

“Tiger, I’d say ‘yes’ in a heartbeat, but we’ve got to take work into account. There needs to be some kind of supervision at headquarters, and the only person I trust with the job is you. It’s too important a role to pass along to just anyone.”

“I understand that, love. But maybe I could operate remotely. Hold video conferences and the like,” he suggested. “I wouldn’t stop going to headquarters altogether. I’d simply cut back on the hours. You wouldn’t have to be alone as often.”

“Oh, Sebby, that sounds wonderful.” It really, truly did. “I just don’t know if it’s in the best interests of my empire. Let me mull it over, okay?”

“Sure,” he agreed, lifting Jim’s hand to his lips and kissing it. “But don’t keep me in suspense forever. A man can only wait so long.”

“You’ll have your answer sooner than later, I promise.”

“Excellent,” Moran replied, flashing a sweet smile. “You know what I’d prefer, but even if you don’t choose that, I’ll respect your decision.”         

“Thank you, Seb.”

The mastermind was in need of advice and he knew precisely who to turn to: the men in his MOPS group. They were the closest thing he had to friends. With their combined experience, perhaps they could offer him the clarity he required.    

*********

Annie glanced at the time on her phone and grumbled. She had better things to do than sit in an automotive repair shop all night. She could be at home, relaxing in a hot bath while sipping chardonnay. But alas, on the way back from work, a tire blew out on her van. Now she was stuck having an emergency replacement put on.

Eventually, a mechanic appeared. “Ma’am?” the man called, obviously referring to her, as there were no other women in sight.

“Yes?” she answered, approaching him. “Have you finished?”

He nodded. “Yep. The new tire should hold up for a while. There’s something I thought you should see, though.”

“What might that be?”

The man pulled a small black device from his pocket. “This was attached to the undercarriage of your vehicle.”

Annie took the item from his hand, examining it. Her eyes widened as she realized what it was.

“I think it’s a tracker, ma’am,” the mechanic said.

“Yeah, you’re right, it is.”

“I’m not one to stick my nose in other people’s business, but you might want to be careful— maybe even consult the authorities. Somebody’s obviously been monitoring you with this thing.”

“I’ll handle the matter,” she assured.

Oh, yes. Annie would handle it, all right. She didn’t even need to think about who was responsible for this. _It was Moran…had to be._ _Either the sneaky fucker did it himself, or he got his new office assistant to do it._ Whichever the case, she was angry. _How dare he?_ After the misery he’d brought into her life, this was one more slap in the face.

She’d originally planned to skip the Christmas party he and Jim were throwing at their house. Now, however, her interest was renewed. Annie had a damn good reason to attend— she would go in the name of pure, unadulterated spite.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	76. Words of Wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim gets advice from his pregnancy support group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

It was time for another Male Omega Pregnancy Support meeting and Jim was especially eager to get the ball rolling. He had a lot on his mind tonight, between the weirdly clingy way he was feeling and the offer his mate had made to be with him more often. Then there was also the matter of what he would say to Ian regarding the Luke situation. He thought he ought to address that particular subject during the midway break.  

As the group waited for its participants to arrive, Jim was taken aback by one member’s entrance, and with good reason: Jack walked in carrying a small child.

“Hello, folks,” he greeted. “Sorry about the extra guest. I couldn’t find anyone to watch my son this evening. He shouldn’t be too much trouble— he’s in hibernation mode,” the man said with a wink. “His name’s Reginald, by the way.”

“Weggie,” a tiny voice sleepily mumbled.

Jack grinned, holding his little boy close. “Excuse me, it’s ‘Reggie,’ not Reginald. My mistake.”

“S’ok,” he cooed before nodding off again.

In an instant, everyone was ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ over Jack’s child— quietly, of course, so not to wake him. Reggie was cute as a button, wearing _Iron Man_ footie pajamas and wrapped in a fleece blanket. The sight was precious beyond words.

“I almost forgot you already had a kid,” Simon remarked. “How old is he?”

“22 months.”

“That’s delightful. I’d love to have more than one.”

“Me too,” another person agreed.       

“I got lucky with this lad,” Jack happily stated. “He’s always been a good boy.”

“Unlike his daddy,” someone cattily commented.

“Hey, I prefer to be called ‘mummy,’” he informed, “and I ask that you all please refrain from saying anything overtly snarky in front of my son. I realize it may be difficult for a few of you, but at least try.”

“I completely understand where you’re coming from,” Trevor, the MOPS coordinator, spoke. “Let’s be on our best behavior tonight, gentlemen. And actually, as a support community, we should aspire to respect each other regardless of who’s present. It’s basic courtesy,” he noted. “That said, how about we get this meeting started? Anybody want to go first?”

Immediately, Moriarty raised his hand.

Trevor was pleasantly surprised. “Jim, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you volunteer so quickly.”

“Yes, well, I’m going through a rough time and could use a bit of advice.”

“Sorry to hear you’re having troubles,” he sympathized. “Know that we’ll do whatever we can to help.”

The consulting criminal nodded, unsure how to begin. Sharing his emotions was still a relatively new concept. Until recently, the mere idea of it was verboten.

“Rather than skirt the issue, I’m just going to come right out and say it,” he declared. “These days, I find myself disgusted by how needy I’ve become. My husband leaves for work in the morning, and I miss him so much, it’s like there’s a physical ache. Something inside me hurts when we’re apart. Worse yet, is the anxiety. I have this nagging sense that I’m not safe if he isn’t there.” Jim sighed wearily and continued, “I’m aware certain urges become stronger during the final months of pregnancy, and that this is likely a manifestation of that. But I _despise_ feeling so vulnerable. It’s beneath me.”

“When you’re accustomed to being independent, a sudden change in that dynamic can be jarring,” Trevor acknowledged.

“I felt similarly when I was expecting this one,” Jack attested, referring to the sleeping toddler in his arms. “I used to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Then my hormones kicked into overdrive, and I thought I was losing my mind. I couldn’t stand the idea of Gary— that’s my partner— leaving me for more than a few hours at a clip. He’s a barrister, so he generally has a heavy workload that keeps him away from home. The instinct to have him with me was powerful, though, and I did some things I’m not proud of to ensure he’d be at my side.”

“Oh really?” Jim was intrigued.

“Yeah. I’d hide his keys and bus pass to make it harder for him to leave. I’d ‘misplace’ documents so that he had to retype them, and thus stick around longer. And once, when I was truly desperate, I put thumbtacks in his tires,” Jack described. “I know it sounds awful, but I’d just get so anxious when he wasn’t there with me. It was this constant dread that something terrible would happen if my alpha was gone for too long.”

“Christ, that’s spot on. Exactly what I’m dealing with right now,” the genius said. “Only I haven’t done anything to keep him at home. I have, however, obsessed over other matters.”

“Do tell. I love comparing notes.”

“Well, I recently became fixated on what my husband was getting me for Christmas. I went a little crazy and actually considered drugging him so that he’d tell me,” Moriarty confessed. “He was rightly appalled. It was an insane idea, even for me.” The Irishman paused, further reflecting on the incident. “When I say it out loud, it doesn’t make much sense. But at the time, in my mind, it seemed crystal clear,” he somberly stated. “It wasn’t about the item itself, not really. Rather, it had to do with the fact that I can barely focus on anything while these urges and worries flood my head. I wanted to regain a semblance of control in whatever way I could. Too bad all I did was fuck things up.”

“Jim,” the coordinator spoke, “you wouldn’t contemplate that again, would you?”

“Never. I’m ashamed to have entertained the thought in the first place.”

“Then I don’t believe you should beat yourself up over this. Yes, you acted in an irrational manner. But now you’re able to recognize how wrong it was, which is progress,” Trevor asserted. “Remember the analogy I made weeks ago, about the past, present, and future being like clay? That’s applicable to this situation.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because you made a mistake. It’s done— been sculpted and baked. But the good news is that going forward, you can learn from the error, so you won’t make it again. You’re free to mold something else entirely, untarnished by past transgressions.”    

Jim mulled over the man’s words. Trevor had a way of putting things into perspective, probably due to his training as a family therapist. He also had children of his own, meaning he’d likely gone through similar struggles in his personal life.     

“I’ll certainly try to shape a better future,” the mastermind affirmed. “There’s also another issue I wanted to address. It’s related to this.”

“Okay, go on.”

“In response to how I’ve been feeling, my mate offered to cut back on his hours at the office so that he could be at home with me on a more frequent basis.”

“Sounds great,” Jack quipped. “What’s to discuss?” 

“It’s complicated. He was meant to take over for me while I’m on paternity leave. If there are substantial periods where neither of us are at headquarters, I’m afraid my enterprise will suffer for it.”

“Pardon me,” a group member, Scott, interjected. “Is this the same business you told us you were thinking about retiring from a few weeks ago?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because if you’re seriously planning to retire, I don’t see why it matters if your enterprise suffers or not. You’ll be leaving regardless of its status.”

“I haven’t decided to retire just yet. It’s one possibility, not a guarantee.”

“In any case,” Jack proclaimed, “when an alpha makes an offer like that, you don’t say no.”

“I agree,” someone else chimed in. “It’s an expectant omega’s dream. You can’t just throw it away.”

“I think Jim should be allowed to make his own choices,” Simon countered. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to maintain one’s business interests.”

“Maybe having his husband at home is worth the risk.”

“Could be, but it’s his decision, not ours.”

“Hey, he asked for advice, so we’re giving it.”

The chatter went back and forth, with people arguing amongst themselves. Jim hadn’t intended to set the room abuzz— he was merely seeking to vent his frustrations and glean some outside opinions.  

The cacophony of voices was suddenly silenced by the cries of Jack’s son. All the noise had woken him up with a fright.

“It’s okay, honey,” he reassured the wailing tot, rocking him slightly. “Mummy’s group just got a little loud. Nothing to be scared of.”

Everyone’s faces hung heavy with shame. None of them wanted to upset the wee lad, but they’d allowed themselves to get out of hand and it happened anyway.

“Jack, I’m sorry for this,” Trevor apologized. “I should’ve quieted the group down as soon as they started talking over each other. I take full responsibility for not stepping in ASAP.”

“It’s fine,” he replied. “Reggie will be okay. He was simply a bit startled. Isn’t that right, love?”

There was a brief pause as the toddler settled down. He sniffled and stared wide-eyed at the small assembly of men.

“I otay. Nuh scawwed. Weggie bwave.”

Jim could swear his heart grew three sizes in that moment. And actually, the sentiment seemed universal. The whole room began to smile, collectively overtaken by baby-induced joy. Perhaps that was precisely what they needed.

*********

The mid-meeting break commenced and store-bought cookies were set out for all to enjoy. Again, the consulting criminal lamented not being able to bake homemade treats. He knew he could come up with something far tastier than any mass-produced product. Before the holiday season was through, maybe he would attempt one last baking effort to knock their socks off.

For now, Jim had more important things to do. Talking to Ian was at the top of the list.

Moriarty rolled himself towards the teen, who was standing near the refreshments table nibbling a tree-shaped sugar cookie.  

“Hiiiiii. How are the treats tonight?” As if he had to ask. Sometimes, he just liked hearing people say that his baked goods were better.

“Not bad, but they don’t hold a candle to yours.”

“Unsurprising,” the genius remarked, before segueing into the real reason he’d approached his quasi-protégé. “Ian, I’d like to speak to you about a personal matter. We may want to take a stroll for this conversation.”

The young man nodded, finishing his cookie and then wheeling Jim out the door and down the hall. He sought to put distance between them and the rest of the group.

“What’s up?”

“I thought you might be relieved to know that Luke isn’t going to bother you anymore.”

“Really, Jim? That’s great,” he exclaimed. “But how can you be sure?”

“Let’s just say my second-in-command paid him a visit.”

“Wonderful.” He paused, turning Moriarty’s words over in his mind. “Jim?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know the etiquette for asking a question like this, so I’ll be blunt. Did you have Luke killed?”

“I wanted to at first, but then I got a better idea.”

“Oh?”

The older man flashed an impish grin. “I sent Seb to tease him a bit, and then give him a pummeling he wouldn’t soon forget. He managed rupture one of the bastard’s testicles,” Jim cheerfully reported.

“Wow, that’s impressive…and rather terrifying, too.”

“An excellent way to describe my Tiger.” Sebastian often did brilliant but brutal work. It was one of the things that made him fall in love with the sniper all those years ago.

“So long as it worked, I won’t complain.”

“Well, there’s mooooore.” Moriarty dug into his pocket and pulled out a key, handing it to the boy.

“What’s this?”

“The key to a P.O. box where Luke will be forwarding you money every month for the next 18 years.”

Ian paled in astonishment. “Are you serious?”

“Very. Consider it a form of restitution.”

“This is incredible. I don’t know how to begin to thank you.”

“It’s quite simple. Thank me by using the funds wisely. Start a fund for your child’s education. Make sure he or she is well-provided for. Don’t forget to be good to yourself, as well.”

The teen nodded. “I will. You won’t be disappointed. That’s a promise.”

“I know, Ian. I trust you.” In his lifetime, the number of people Jim genuinely believed in could be counted on one hand. Somehow, this unfortunate youth had found a rare foothold within the recesses of his dark heart. It was almost enough to make one wonder if Christmas miracles really did occur.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone needs a "Baby Talk" translation for what Reggie said: "I'm okay. Not scared. Reggie's brave."


	77. Folie à Deux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Christmas nears, plotting and scheming abound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

The irrepressible spirit of Christmas had taken hold throughout Moriarty’s headquarters, and it was funny how it came about. Recently, Sebastian snapped a photo of the newly installed flooring in the lobby and sent it to Jim. The mastermind replied back, incensed. He didn’t have a problem with the tile job, but rather with the office’s total lack of yuletide flair. He demanded that the place be given a “merry” makeover. This included erecting a fully decorated tree near the entrance of the building, stringing twinkle lights and garland along the walls and doorways, and piping holiday music through the loudspeakers. These measures actually seemed to have a positive effect— most employees did appear cheerier than usual.

It didn’t end there. Jim also insisted that all personnel be gifted with lavish fruit baskets. Naturally, the endeavor cost a pretty penny. He’d settle for nothing less than the finest produce available, even if it meant importing from international sources. Ultimately, the Irishman found what he was looking for, and now it was a matter of waiting for the shipment to arrive. Seb tasked Ian with keeping an eye on mail deliveries. When the packages came in, he was to notify Moran immediately.

The sniper stood up from his desk and walked to the door. It was open just a crack, so that he could peek out and glimpse the main floor staff. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t watch them in secret like this, but today he had his reasons. Annie was conspicuously missing. She’d not given prior notice of her absence, and perhaps more worryingly, Seb discovered that the tracker he’d planted on her van had been deactivated. Were these two developments related? At this point, it almost felt foolish to pretend otherwise.

 _I know you’re up to something, Annie. The question is, what?_ It was the uncertainty that set him on edge. That, and the woman’s utterly ambiguous motivation. Why would she be in league with Colin? He understood the madman’s pursuit of revenge, but what stake did Annie have in this? Was she romantically involved with him and he convinced her to help? Was she a stranger, recruited at random? Or was the connection something else entirely? There were so many questions begging to be answered.

Seb supposed that tomorrow night would be quite a learning experience. He and Jim’s Christmas party was scheduled to commence, and with it, the genius’s interrogation plot would be underway. He hoped they’d finally learn just what the hell was going on. No more vagary and conjecture— he wanted straight up truth. Was that too much to ask?

Moran sighed. He couldn’t wait to be done with all of this. Couldn’t wait for the stalking and conspiracy to end. For his family to be safe and sound, free from the threat of harm. Lifelong security was a crapshoot considering his line of work, but the former colonel dared to dream.

*********

BZZ.

The door buzzed, permitting Annie entry into Colin Taylor’s room at Bethlem Royal Hospital. Or rather, ‘Emily Grant’ was allowed in. The crafty blonde was passing herself off as an assistant to Taylor’s attorney. The ruse went over with surprising ease, perhaps a testament to how short-staffed the facility currently was. As the holidays approached, many had elected to use their vacation time, leaving the psychiatric unit with a barebones crew.

The door shut behind Annie, and Colin glanced up from the book he was reading. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of her.

“What are you doing here?”

“Visiting you.”

“Obviously. I mean how did you get clearance to be let in?”

She smiled wickedly. “Oh, _that._ It was simple. First, I phoned ahead to inform the receptionist that an ‘aide’ to your legal counsel would be dropping by. Then I dressed up in my most professional attire, drove here, sauntered up to the lady at the desk, told her I was ‘Emily Grant’— the person sent on your lawyer’s behalf— and voila! She buzzed me through.”

“That’s all it took?” he uttered in disbelief. “They didn’t insist you show them some form of ID or credentials?”

“Nope. There’s hardly anyone on duty out there. The few people they’ve got are too busy picking up slack to ask questions.”

Colin snorted derisively. “A superb system for maintaining patient care. I’m beginning to understand why they call it ‘Bedlam.’”

“Hey, be grateful they’re operating at a minimum right now. I probably wouldn’t have been able to pull this off otherwise.”

“True.” The wheels in the deranged man’s brain began to turn. He was formulating an idea.

“I know that look,” Annie remarked. “What are you plotting?”

“Well, you say security is lax at the moment. Maybe we should take full advantage.”

“You mean…” It quickly dawned on her what he was suggesting.

“I think the time is right to get me out of here.”

“But your trial—”

“Has been postponed pending review of the evidence, and it’s going at a snail’s pace,” he stated. “You’re the one who was pushing for me to get out. Claimed you couldn’t execute the endgame without me. Was that merely lip service, Annelise?”

“No, I meant it. This is just very sudden.”

“Best to strike while opportunity presents itself.”

Annie nodded. “How fast can you come up with a plan? I’m leaving the country in a few days to spend Jul with my parents.”

His expression lit up as soon as she told him that. “Perfect. Give me a day or two to work on Katie,” he said, referring to the nursing assistant he’d charmed early on in his stay. “I’m sure I can sweet talk her into helping me sneak out of this room. From there, I'll make my own way out of the building, and you'll be waiting nearby with your van,” Colin continued. “Then we’ll go to the airport, buy me an extra ticket so that I can fly with you, and I’ll regroup at your parents’ house. You know they’ll let me stay with them.”     

“Yes…yes, they would,” she spoke slowly, processing everything. It was a lot to take in.

“Excellent. Now that that’s settled, what did you originally come here for?”

“I wanted to give you a gift before I left,” Annie replied, “and also keep you in the loop about what’s happening with Moran.”

“Gift first, news second,” he declared.

“Okay.” She opened the briefcase she’d brought along with her, taking out a wrapped box and setting it in front of him.

The man haphazardly tore through the paper and lifted the lid from the package. Inside was a snow globe depicting an ornately decorated building and fountain. It only took a second for him to recognize the locale.

“The Nimb Hotel at Tivoli,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“I had a feeling you’d remember the place.”

“How could I forget?”

A silence came over them as they both thought back to happier times.

Finally, Colin was the one to speak up. “You mentioned you had an update on Moran?”

“Yes. I recently discovered that a tracking device was planted on my vehicle. It’s since been destroyed, but I’m still angry about it. Though I can’t prove Sebastian put it there, I strongly suspect it was him.”

“Sounds like something he would do. Always thinking he’s so fucking clever.”

“There’s more,” Annie reported. “Jim and Sebastian are throwing a Christmas party at their house tomorrow night. I didn’t tell you about it during our last phone call because I hadn’t planned to attend. But now, after this tracker bullshit, I’m going. Wild horses couldn’t stop me.”

“An invitation like that offers a wealth of possibilities.”

She flashed a sly smile. “Oh, I know it does. With inside access, I could do a whole lot of damage.”

“You certainly could,” Colin agreed. “On the other hand…” He paused, suddenly second-guessing himself. “If Moran was responsible for the tracker, it means he’s on to you. He may not know the specifics of what you’re involved in, but he must believe something’s up.”

Annie peered at him contemplatively. “So you don’t think I should go?”

“I didn’t say that,” he quickly clarified. “What I’m suggesting is that you be prepared.”

“For what, exactly?”

“Anything.”

“Hmm.” It was good advice. She’d be a sitting duck without some form of protection. “I already carry pepper spray in my purse,” the woman noted. “I’ve got a Glock 43 in my nightstand that I could also bring. It’s small enough to conceal.”

“That’s more like it,” Colin approved. “But only use it if absolutely necessary. I don’t want either of them dead yet.”

She glared at him, somewhat offended. “You think I’d throw everything away just to shoot those bastards at a lousy Christmas party? Never.”   

“I’m simply making sure we’re on the same page. It would be a shame to have our plans unravel now. This is the home stretch. Or it will be, soon.”

The blonde closed her eyes and took a deep breath, picturing the near future so clearly in her head.

“Do you see it, Annelise?”

“I do,” she affirmed, “and it’s magnificent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations are as follows:  
> *Folie à Deux = Madness of Two (French origin)  
> *Jul = Christmas (Danish origin)


	78. The Christmas Party – Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian’s Christmas party gets underway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is brief mention of violence and bloodshed in this chapter. 
> 
> ****************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“A little to the left, dear.”

“Here?” Sebastian asked as he hefted their couch in the specified direction.

“No,” Jim answered, sounding annoyed. “Not _your_ left. _My_ left.”  

Seb gruntingly corrected his mistake. “How’s that?” 

“Better, but it could stand to be over just a smidge more.”

Again, he obliged. “Now?”

Moriarty peered at the newly positioned sofa and grinned. “Perrrrrfect.” He rose from his wheelchair and gingerly maneuvered towards his mate. “Thank you for moving the furniture, darling. It’s really opened up the floor space. This will be much more accommodating for our guests.”

The sniper absently nodded, distracted by the fact that Jim winced with every step. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, why?”

“Because you look like you’re in pain.”

“Pain? That's nonsense.” His words were a denial, but the manner in which he held his back suggested otherwise.

“There’s no need to hide it, honey.”

“No need to burden you, either.”

“It’s not a burden. I’m your alpha. Let me take care of you.”

Moran reached out, embracing the smaller man in his arms.

Jim hummed softly, enjoying the feel of Seb’s warm body pressed close to his own. It was a comforting sensation, the kind he hated to pull away from. But…

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Tiger.”

“Why not?”

“Because I won’t want you to stop.”

The former colonel smiled. “How is that a bad thing? I’d hold you all day if you let me. Hell, on some occasions, I have.”

“I must remain in party mode. Tomorrow you can care for me, but tonight, I’m to act as host.”     

Seb began to rub small, soothing circles against his husband’s aching back. “Perhaps we ought to call off the whole affair and spend a quiet evening together instead. We could soak in a bubble bath, eat catering for dinner, cozy up and watch movies…maybe even turn our bed into a makeshift nest, with lots of snug blankets and cushiony pillows. Doesn’t that sound divine?” 

Moriarty let out an involuntary coo of contentment. His partner had played the ‘nesting’ card— a difficult proposition for any pregnant omega to resist.

“Oh Sebby, you’ve no idea how much I’d like to take you up on that offer.”

“So do it.”

“You know we can’t cancel this party. We have a plan to follow,” the Irishman insisted. “I thought you were on board for us gathering information. Why the change of heart?”

“I’m still game to get intel, I just…”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Moran muttered, forlornly releasing Jim from his embrace.

“No. Tell me, dammit.”

“You might laugh.”

“Try me and find out.”

The blonde sighed, realizing there was no use holding back his thoughts. When Moriarty wanted an answer, he’d be relentless until he got it.

“Fair enough. The reason I’m apprehensive is because this doesn’t feel right.”

Jim’s face scrunched up in confusion. “How do you mean?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just have this sense that something bad is going to happen. Call it a gut instinct.”

The consulting criminal was silent, not wanting to reveal how anxious Seb’s statement made him. These days, he dealt with dread on a near-constant basis. It was only through his mate’s protection that he had peace of mind. Now, with the assassin expressing his own doubts, all bets were off.

“We’ll do what we must,” Jim finally spoke. “We’re the most dangerous men this city’s ever seen. We won’t fall prey to the folly of jitters.”

Sebastian held his head high and nodded. “You’re right. We’re better than that. I’m sorry for allowing such foolishness to cloud my judgment.”

“No worries, darling. Let’s just proceed as normal.”

“Yes, let’s.”

And so the couple continued on, setting up for that night’s festivities. Neither man felt particularly good about the impending soirée, but they could hardly justify cancelling the event on the grounds of ‘bad vibes.’ Those sorts of fears never amounted to anything, right?

*********

It was official: Jim and Sebastian’s qualms were laid to rest as their Christmas party proved a rousing success. Plenty of people showed up— many bearing gifts. That aspect surprised the duo. There was no requirement for it, yet several employees saw fit to bestow the genius with tokens of their appreciation. A decent sized pile of presents amassed, reminding Seb of the baby shower they’d held not too long ago. He was rather curious as to what the items might be, but he’d have to wait until the celebration was over to find out.

For as good as things were going, they did run into one snag. Annie was nowhere in sight. Granted, the night was still young, but both men would’ve preferred she turn up sooner than later. Moriarty was especially flustered by her absence. His whole plot hinged upon the woman’s attendance.

Speaking of Jim, the sniper had unwittingly lost him amid the crowd. You’d think it would be impossible to lose track of a person in a wheelchair, but with their house being so jam-packed, it happened.

Seb pulled out his phone, intent to send a text.

_SM_

_Where are you?_

 

_JM_

_In the kitchen with Gemma. She’s a blubbering mess. Help get me out of here ASAP._

 

Moran immediately flew into action. Shoving past the sea of partygoers, he made his way to the designated room. Sure enough, there was Jim…and also Gemma, who appeared to be crying. She sat at the table, mascara streaming down her face and an empty wine glass clenched in her hand.

_What the fuck is going on?_ Seb wondered.

“Gemma, what’s the matter?” he asked, almost afraid to know. Sometimes ignorance was bliss.

“I’m s-s-so s-sad,” she sputtered between sobs.

“Sorry to hear it,” the confused assassin said.

Seb quickly took his Magpie aside, speaking to him in a hushed tone. “What’s with her?”

“Two glasses of merlot, and suddenly she starts blathering on about Marie being dead. Apparently, they were best friends.”

“Ah, hell.” If they were close, then it was understandable why she’d be upset. Not only had Marie been murdered quite brutally, but the case had also gone cold. Everyone she was in contact with at the time of her death had an acceptable alibi, and the lone person at home when the crime occurred was her two-year-old son.   

“Why would someone want to hurt her? Why?” Gemma stared at Sebastian as if she expected a response.

“I have no idea,” he lied. Both he and Jim were fairly certain that Marie was killed because she knew too much and was about to warn them of something.

“My cousin performed the autopsy,” she stated. “Molly’s not supposed to discuss her findings, but I _made_ her tell me. I _needed_ to know the details.” Gemma was slurring her words as she related the news. “Marie’s throat was cut so deep, she was nearly decapitated. Lost five pints of blood. _Five_ pints!” the weeping woman repeated for emphasis.   

Seb couldn’t help but notice Jim typing on his phone while Gemma was in the throes of her breakdown. Soon, Ian entered the kitchen and they exchanged a nod. It became clear that he’d summoned the young man to assist.

“Gemma, you’re just who I was looking for,” he announced.

“I am?”

“Yes,” Ian confirmed. “You were so good at throwing Jim’s baby shower— I’d love to get your advice on how to surprise someone else with one.”

“Well, it’s not an undertaking for amateurs,” she noted, wiping a bit of mascara from beneath her raccoon eyes.

“Walk with me and we can chat about it.” He extended his hand and smiled, waiting patiently for her to take the bait.

She did, standing up on wobbly legs.

“Easy does it,” the teen spoke, allowing her to grip him for support. Together, they exited the room.    

As soon as the pair left, Seb sat down so that he was at eye level with Jim. He sighed and shook his head. “That was the result of two glasses of wine? Remind me never to invite her to a New Year’s party.”

Moriarty chuckled. “That’s for damn sure.”

“Smart move, by the way, calling Ian in. He deserves a bonus in his next paycheck.”

“Oh, he’ll be well compensated, believe me.”

A calm came over the men as they listened to the music pouring in from the living room. It was _‘2000 Miles’_ by The Pretenders.

“There’s a blast from the past,” Moran remarked.

“Yeah,” Jim agreed, thinking back on it.

“Do you remember the first Christmas we spent together? We had such grand plans to tour New England, but ended up snowed in at the first hotel we stopped at. You were so pissed off.”

“Of course I remember. And I may have acted cranky at the time, but deep down, I didn’t much mind.”

“No? Could’ve fooled me. You ranted half the night.”

“Yes, my dear, but do you recall what we did the other half of the night, when I _wasn’t_ complaining?”

Sebastian grinned broadly. “Some things, you don’t ever forget.”

“I should hope not,” the genius declared, reaching over to grasp his husband’s hand.

“Afterwards, we went down to the lobby and discovered that a slew of guests had decided to stage an impromptu party at the bar and grill.”

“A few drinks in, and this song came on,” Jim reminisced. “Then you asked me to dance.”

“And astonishingly enough, you agreed.”  

“Glad I did,” the Irishman asserted. He lifted Seb’s hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I miss dancing with you, Tiger.”

The two stared lovingly at each other, as if in that moment, they were the only two people in the world.

BZZ.

BZZ.

BZZ.

Jim’s phone was buzzing, but he ignored it, paying no attention to anyone or anything besides his cherished mate.

Eventually, the sniper spoke up. “Honey, maybe you should answer that. It might be important.”

“Ah, right.” He hastily returned to his senses and checked the vibrating device. The look on his face confirmed that something was indeed afoot.

“What’s the scoop?”

“Annie’s here.”      

 

 

To Be Continued…   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	79. The Christmas Party – Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian escape the crowd at their Christmas party. Much is discussed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Annie’s here?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes. That bitch has the nerve to announce her arrival via text message. Says she’s out by the fireplace.”

“What kind of game is she playing?” the sniper wondered aloud.

“A losing one,” Jim quipped. “Come on, let’s roll. And I mean that literally— I want you to navigate me through the crowd.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

The two ventured forth as men on a mission.

 

 

Traveling from the kitchen to the living room, Moriarty and Moran spotted their target sitting alongside Ian and Gemma at the hearth. She quickly noticed them as well, flashing a sacchariney smile and waving their way. The duo returned the gesture, moving in closer until they were near enough to talk.

“We were beginning to think you might not make it,” Jim remarked.

“Leave it to me to be fashionably late. I didn’t miss anything good, did I?”

“Nah, the fun’s just getting started.”

“Fantastic,” Annie cheerfully enthused. “Now if someone could show me to the egg nog and hors d'oeuvres, I’d be eternally grateful.”

“Ooh,” Gemma piped up. “They’ve got a drinks station with egg nog, wine, and hot buttered rum. I’ll take you there.” The woman, no longer weeping, stood up with some assistance from Ian.

“Perhaps I ought to accompany you, Gemma,” the teen suggested.

“Sure, why not? The more the merrier. Let’s go as a trio.”

“Fine by me,” Annie agreed. “Lead the way.”

Sebastian stifled a laugh as he watched the three of them walk off. “A liar, a lightweight drunk, and an office spy saunter up to the bar at a Christmas party— there’s gotta be a joke in there somewhere.”

Jim grumbled. “Less revelry, more action. We need to figure out how to get Annie alone.”

“Relax, we have plenty of time to lure her away. And hell, it’ll probably be easier to achieve once she’s had a few drinks under her belt.”

“Actually, I’d prefer to launch the interrogation sooner than later.”

Seb eyed the mastermind curiously. “Really, Jim? I thought we’d enjoy the festivities for a bit before executing your plan.”

“Where did you _ever_ get that idea?” he questioned, sounding thoroughly annoyed. “I didn’t say a word about waiting.”

“I guess I naturally assumed—”

“There’s your mistake,” Jim spat, cutting his mate off in mid-sentence. “Never assume things, Sebastian. You don’t have the aptitude for it. _I’m_ the brains, _you’re_ the brawn. Get with the program.”

Moran blinked in surprise at what he was hearing. This was the crankiest he’d witnessed Jim in ages. Were hormones to blame or was it something else?

“Honey, are you feeling okay?”

The consulting criminal scowled intensely. “I’m dandy. Would be even better, though, if I could get my plan in motion instead of just twiddling my thumbs here.”

“Look, I’m trying to be patient with you, but I’m also wondering what switch flipped inside your head to make you suddenly start acting like a wanker. Five minutes ago, you were fine. Now your mood’s done a complete 180. What’s the matter?”

“I’m changeable,” he bitterly replied.

“Yes, but that’s not the issue at hand. There’s more to this.”

Jim sighed in an exaggerated manner. “It’s simple, Seb. I’m pissed because you’re refusing to help me.”

“Huh?” The sniper was genuinely baffled by the accusation. “I’m not refusing a bloody thing. All I said was that we shouldn’t rush into the plan. It’s always smarter to wait and lull one’s prey into a false sense of security before lowering the blow. As a hunter, I know that, and as a genius, you know it, too.”    

Moriarty fell silent, unable to refute his alpha’s claim. What he said was true.

“Tell me what’s got you so wound up, love.”

“I won’t discuss it here,” Jim stated. “Let’s go somewhere less crowded.”

“Good idea.”

The couple sought refuge in the downstairs library. Certain sections of the house were partitioned off using baby gates to discourage guests from exploring beyond those points. The library was one such prohibited area.

Moran sat in an elegant leatherback armchair. He faced the mastermind, giving him his undivided attention. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m listening.”

For several moments, neither uttered a word. Music from the party filtered in, the happy holiday tunes playing in stark contrast to the heaviness that loomed between them.

“I hate Annie,” Jim said at last. “Honest-to-god _hate_ , not hyperbole. Every fiber of my being despises that woman.”  

“I feel the same. She’s done terrible things to us. Her and Colin both.”

“Yes, they have,” he acknowledged. “But I don’t think you could ever truly understand how deeply she’s hurt me. And I don’t mean that as a dig against you. I mean it as a statement of fact, because you’re not an omega.”

“Alpha, beta, omega— what difference does it make?” The assassin had no clue where his husband was going with this.

“Seb, the graffiti she wrote at your birthday party was very specific. I still think about it.”

The blonde frowned. He vividly recalled the heinous display, and Jim’s reaction to it. His Magpie had been in shambles. It broke his heart to learn that he continued to be haunted by the incident.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“I know you are,” Moriarty sadly spoke. “Those slurs were vicious and cruel, and should never be directed towards any male omega. But even so, if they were only about me, I could’ve gotten over it,” he confided. “We both know they weren’t, though. That soulless viper included our babies in her sickening screed. She wished for Edward and Estella to ‘burn in hell.’ I can’t just let that go. The affront is too great.” He paused, his anger and upset feeling as fresh today as it did then. “Later, she was so brazen as to come into our home and steal my medication. Again, it wasn’t only me she put in danger— our children were at risk, too. I never told you this, Seb, because I didn’t want you to worry, but shortly after I checked into the hospital, a doctor informed me that if I’d gone another week without treatment, they might’ve needed to deliver the twins early. Do you know what that would’ve meant? They’d have been two months premature and probably ended up in the neonatal intensive care unit.”

Moran’s eyes widened at the news. “Oh no.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Jim said in a huff. “I hate Colin, I do. But he’s not here. Annie _is,_ though, and she’s parading around scot-free. She’s in the same house as us and we have an opportunity to hurt her. After the things she’s done to our babies, I demand retribution. I’ve waited long enough.”

Sebastian was speechless, processing everything his mate had shared. It wasn’t always easy getting Jim to open up, but once the flood gates were lifted, watch out— there was no holding him back.

“Magpie,” the former colonel finally replied, “now I get why you want to go after her right away. It makes perfect sense,” he conceded. “But from a strategic standpoint, I honestly think it’s wiser to enact your plan later on tonight. Not only would it be more effective in terms of catching her off guard, but as the evening wears on, people will start to leave. That means fewer witnesses to ask questions about where she is.” He hesitated for a moment, adding, “We’re the most formidable men in London. When we do something, it’s to the best of our ability. This situation should follow suit.”    

Moriarty didn’t immediately offer a verbal response. Instead, he stared despondently at his spouse, looking sad, tired, and frustrated.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “We should wait. I already knew as much, really. I just let these fucking emotions poison my mind.”

It pained Seb to see his omega in this state. He had to cheer him up. Had to make him smile. The alternative hurt too much.  

Suddenly, an idea popped into Moran’s head, and it was brilliant— or at least he thought so.

“Jimmy?”

“Yeah?”

“Is the heated pool turned on?”

“It’s always on. Why are you asking me about this now?”

“Because there’s something I want to do.” The sniper stood up and walked behind Jim.

“What’s going on?” he inquired, sounding slightly nervous. His trepidation increased as Sebastian proceeded to wheel him out of the library and into the hall, continuing down the lengthy corridor until they reached a set of ornately carved double-doors.

“Allow me to get that,” the blonde announced, opening the wooden entrance so that his partner could push through. “Après vous.”  

The genius warily obliged. “Why did you have us come here?”

“Because listen to that,” he instructed.

Moriarty did…and then promptly crinkled his nose in confusion. “What is it I’m supposed to be hearing?”

A wide grin flashed across Seb’s face. “The music, silly. The way our speaker system is set up, we can still hear it from the far wing of the house.”

Jim peered at his handsome husband, not quite knowing what to make of all this. “You brought me here so you could point out how impressive our stereo unit is?”  

“No,” he answered, and abruptly began stripping off his clothing piece by piece.

The impromptu disrobing captured Jim’s attention, leaving him both shocked and enthralled. He watched as Sebastian removed every last stitch, eventually standing naked in front of him. It was a glorious sight.

“You want to skinny dip?” the consulting criminal asked, trying to puzzle out what was happening.

“Not quite.” He moved close to his mate and started tugging at the wheelchair-bound man’s clothes. “A little while ago, when we were in the kitchen, you said you missed dancing with me.”

“Riiiiight,” the mastermind drawled, allowing his gorgeous Tiger to peel the designer casualwear from his body.  

“Well, I thought of a way that we could.”

Jim’s expression lit up excitedly as he realized what Moran meant. In water, he’d have greater buoyancy and mobility. He’d be able to move uninhibited, free from back pain, sore muscles, and a skewed center of gravity. The notion was ingenious.   

Once the Irishman was laid bare, Seb scooped him into his arms and carried him to the pool.

“I could’ve done that myself, you know. I’m not actually paralyzed, just on prescription bedrest.”

“The less walking you have to do, the better. Now relax, and you might enjoy this.”

“I already do,” Moriarty declared. He took a moment to stretch, relishing how much lighter he felt while submerged in water. It was as though a literal weight had been lifted.

“Pleased by the change of venue?” Sebastian inquired. He couldn’t help but notice the gentle smile that graced the smaller man’s face.

“Mmm, yes. It’s wonderful.”

“I read that hydrotherapy is a good way to stay active during pregnancy without wearing oneself out.”

“Since when do you read medical literature?”

“Since my mate got pregnant.”

Jim balked at the choice of words. “ _‘Got pregnant?’_ You make it sound like an independent effort on my part,” he quipped. “It takes two to tango, darling.”

“Indeed, it does,” Moran agreed. “Speaking of tangos…may I have this dance?” He extended his hand, bidding the genius’s permission to lead.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Jim’s smile became an all-out grin as Seb pulled him close and spun them in a circle. They began to move in time to the music, their bodies exhibiting fluidity and poise. It wasn’t ‘dancing’ in the traditional sense, but it was enough of an approximation to keep the mastermind content.

“Sebby?” he whispered, resting his head on his spouse’s shoulder.

“Yes, dear?”

“Thank you for this. I know I’m not the easiest person to be married to, or hell, even be around sometimes. But you’ve stuck by me through everything, and you still manage to come up with sweet gestures like this. It’s probably more than I deserve,” he admitted. “I love you, Tiger.”

“I love you too, Jimmy. Never doubt your worth. I have it on good authority that you’re a god among men.”

Moriarty hummed, basking in the glow of pure omega bliss. He wanted the moment to go on forever— an endless loop featuring the two of them, pressed skin-to-skin as they moved together in their perfectly heated pool. If heaven existed, he imagined it would feel something like this.

*********

Jim and Sebastian ‘danced’ their way through several songs. The couple finally stopped when the Irishman had to take his nightly dose of antihypertensive medication. By that time, both men were pruney and waterlogged. Thankfully, they always made sure to store a supply of terrycloth towels near the poolside.

After drying off and dressing, the duo returned to the kitchen so that Jim could get something to swallow his pill with. Moran poured him a glass of apple juice, bending down to sneak a kiss as he handed over the drink.

“Darling?” Moriarty spoke. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you smell like chlorine.”

The sniper smiled. “So do you, Magpie.”

Jim’s face scrunched up as he realized his husband was correct. “Ugh, I hate it.”

“It’s not so bad. There are far worse things one could smell of.”

“Now there’s some cold comfort,” he groused.

“Once everybody’s gone, how about we take a hot shower to rinse off the chlorine? You can lean on me for support if you need to.”

He considered the prospect, and it actually sounded pretty good. He could stand for short durations with a bit of assistance; certainly long enough for a rinse.

“Yes, I’d like that. Until then, I’m going to try covering the scent with cologne. Do you think my ‘Jardin d'Amalfi’ will adequately mask it?”

“For £500 a bottle, it had better.” Seb adored his mate more than anything else in the world, but was often astounded by the amount of money he was willing to spend on items that were essentially beauty products. Give the former colonel a bar of soap and a stick of deodorant, and he’d be good to go. Jim, on the other hand, required an extensive regimen of fragrances, moisturizers, cleansers, and the like. Frequently, walking into their master bathroom was akin to browsing the cosmetics department at _Harrods_.  

“This shouldn’t take long. Go keep an eye on the crowd and I’ll meet you back at the fireplace.”

“Okay, see you soon.” Sebastian stole another quick kiss. “One for the road,” he teased before slipping out the door.

Meanwhile, Jim was determined to combat the scourge of chlorine. He took the elevator upstairs, wheeling towards his and Seb’s room. He’d almost made it there when something unexpected caught his attention: the lights were on in the nursery.  

His heart instantly sank. No one was supposed to be on the upper floor of the house. The gates on the stairs were meant as a deterrent. Clearly, someone didn’t get the message.

Moriarty was mad. Nay, he was downright livid. Not only did he have an interloper in his midst, but the person had chosen to intrude upon his children’s private quarters. He felt very protective of that space, even though it was not yet in use.

The mastermind rose from his wheelchair and crept over to the babies’ room. He gasped at the figure standing inside. It was Annie.

Searing, ineffable rage coursed through him. How _dare_ she? The nursery was a sacred spot. For her to have set foot within its walls was an egregious violation.

Forget waiting to enact his plan. He would deal with her right fucking _now_.   

   

        

To Be Continued…         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> Après vous = "After you" (French origin)


	80. The Christmas Party – Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim confronts Annie. Seb must intervene as the situation spirals out of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Jim stood there, fists clenched and shaking with fury as he spied Annie in his unborn children’s room.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Fuck,” he muttered. His portable blood pressure monitor had gone off. He sorely regretting having strapped it back on after exiting the pool. 

The noise caused Annie to turn around quickly, and she spotted Jim in the doorway.

“Are you okay?” she asked with mock concern.

He wanted to say ‘no.’ Wanted to tell her that he knew she was a lying piece of shite and he would enjoy giving her an agonizing, protracted death. But he couldn’t speak those things. Not yet.

“I’m fine,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “It just gave me a jolt to see someone in here.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. The bathroom downstairs was occupied, so I hoped to find another loo up here.”

“You entered Essie and Eddie’s room because you were looking for a toilet?” Her pathetic excuse made his blood boil even more. Did she honestly think he was that stupid?

“Yes,” she claimed. “Then, when I saw how beautiful the room was, I got distracted admiring everything.”

BEEP. BEEP. BE—

Jim ripped the medical device from his arm, fed up with listening to both it and the insufferable bitch standing in front of him.

“Is it advisable to take off your monitor?”

“I can do what I damn well please,” he sharply replied.

“All right.” Annie paused, uncertain of how to end the awkward exchange they were locked into. “My apologies for intruding. Maybe the bathroom downstairs is free now.”

An idea swiftly came to Moriarty’s mind. “Would you care to use my private bathroom?” he offered. “It’s attached to the master bedroom.”

“Uh…sure,” she hesitantly agreed. At this point, she couldn’t refuse him without appearing suspicious. 

He grinned devilishly. “I’ll show you the way.”

There was a method to Jim’s madness. He kept the sodium pentothal in his nightstand. While Annie was otherwise engaged in the bathroom, he would prepare the syringe and be waiting to administer it the instant she stepped out. He had the scenario perfectly plotted in his head. This was going to work.

*********

“Soooo, what are you doing for Christmas?” the consulting criminal inquired. He sat on the edge of the bed, making small talk with Annie through the closed door while readying a dose of ‘truth serum.’

“Nothing too exciting,” she answered. “I’ll be spending the holiday with my family.”

“Is it a large group?”

“Not really. I don’t have many relatives.”

“I know how that is,” he spoke, squirting the syringe to eliminate any potential air bubbles. “I had no family at all before Sebastian. Didn’t know what I was missing until he came along.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. I hear he was a real heartbreaker before deciding to settle down with you.”

“Who told you that?” Had Colin been filling her head with stories about Seb?

“No one in particular. It’s just watercooler gossip,” she said. “How’d you manage to tame a man like him?”

Jim snorted. “Honey, if you think he’s tame, you obviously don’t know him very well.”

“Oh? In my dealings with Mr. Moran, he seemed pretty subdued.”

“He’s matured through the years, yes. But he’s also a trained killer and can be incredibly fierce when necessary. It’s best you not forget that.”

The woman was silent for a moment, and Jim wondered if he’d perhaps scared her with his warning. In which case, good— she _should_ be afraid.

WHOOSH.

The toilet flushed and Moriarty used the sound as a cue. He got up from the bed, intending to meet Annie when she opened the door.

Unfortunately, his timing was off.

In the Irishman’s mind, he’d envisioned the situation playing out with him as he used to be— a master of agility and cunning. Lately, however, things were quite a bit different. Now at an advanced stage of pregnancy, he was slower and more easily winded. So instead of being right there, poised to stick Annie with the syringe, he was only partway to the door when she came out.

“What the hell is that?” she demanded, catching sight of the sharp device in Jim’s hand.

“Ugh. You weren’t supposed to see the needle,” he stated.

“Allow me to repeat the question. What in god’s name is that thing for?”

He cocked his head and smiled. “Consider it a gift from me to you, dear.”

The genius closed in on the woman. She dodged his attack, moving out of the way when he attempted to jab her. But Moriarty wasn’t the type to give up without a fight. When she ran to the opposite end of the room, he followed.

“You’re fucking crazy!” Annie spat.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he quipped. “You’re reeeeeally going to regret having conspired against me.”

“What? I’ve done no such thing!”

“Oh, just stop lying already. Seb and I know you’re in league with Colin. There’s no point denying it.”

“Colin? Who’s that?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re not fooling anyone. But don’t worry— I’ll get the truth out of you soon enough.”

Annie looked at him, then at the bedroom door, and back again. She was definitely contemplating making a break for it. Jim knew he needed to act fast or risk her getting away.          

Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, he lunged at the woman, sending them crashing to the ground with a loud thud.

“Jesus Christ, you’re heavy!” she yelled as he landed on top of her.        

“Shut up and hold still!” Annie was wriggling around so much, he couldn’t get at a decent angle to inject her.

She bit his shoulder hard, eliciting a scream from the mastermind.

Angry and in pain, he haphazardly thrust the syringe downward in the hopes of stabbing whatever part of her he could.

To Jim’s chagrin, she blocked the assault by using her purse as a shield. The blunt impact knocked the needle from his hand. He scrambled to reach for it, and in that fleeting moment of distraction, she rolled out from under him.

“No! We’re not finished here!” Moriarty shouted. He grabbed her by the foot and she kicked at him, the sole of her boot making contact with his face.

“You’re gonna pay for that, you sodding cow!”

Annie frantically rifled through her purse, producing a can of pepper spray. She pressed the button on the container and aimed in Jim’s direction. A misty flood of capsaicin was released, incapacitating him immediately.

The consulting criminal writhed on the floor, blinded and gasping for breath. As he lay in agony, he felt deep remorse for having gone against Sebastian’s wishes. He shouldn’t have undertaken this alone. It was rash and foolhardy, and it ruined everything.

_I’m sorry, Sebby._

*********

The sniper was worried. He’d heard what sounded like a crash coming from upstairs. No one else seemed to notice, probably because the music mostly drowned it out, but Seb’s senses were acute. 

Knowing that his mate was up there made him doubly concerned. What if he’d suffered an accident? What if he required assistance? Moran checked his phone to see if he’d been sent any distress messages. There were none.

Still, something didn’t feel right. It was the same uneasiness that plagued him before the party began. He needed to be sure Jim was okay.  

Seb hurdled over the baby gate blocking the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. He could’ve used the elevator, but it was too slow for his liking. Sprinting would be faster.   

Once he reached the upper level, he saw Jim’s wheelchair abandoned in the hall. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but…

THUMP. BAM. HISSS.

The assassin heard noises emanating from close by. He followed the sounds, realizing they led to his and Jim’s bedroom.    

Sebastian entered their sleeping quarters and was aghast at what he found. His husband lay on the floor, coughing and moaning as he rubbed his inflamed eyes. Their rogue employee, Annie, stood over him, clutching a canister of some kind.

“What the FUCK did you do?” Moran roared. He ripped the can from her grasp, reading the label and then promptly hurling it several feet away, enraged. “Pepper spray?! You used pepper spray on _my_ pregnant omega?!” He looked like he wanted to destroy her.

“I…uh…” she clammed up, intimidated by the irate alpha.

Moriarty struggled to speak between coughs. “G-g-get herrrrr,” he choked out.

That was all Seb needed to hear. In a flash, he grabbed Annie by the throat and pinned her against the wall. There were a million things racing through his head that he wanted to say, but once the raw fury took hold, words fell away and only action remained.

She gurgled and grew red in the face, her eyes teary and bloodshot. For a brief moment, the former colonel was taken aback by a chilling wave of déjà vu. There was something familiar about those eyes…a haunting quality. He saw it the day of the baby shower when she winked at him, and he saw it again now. What was the reason for this?

The woman suddenly went limp.

_Fuck._ They needed her alive if they hoped to get answers. He prayed she was merely passed out.

The instant Seb eased his grip, Annie straightened up and kneed him in the groin. He doubled over with a groan, furious he’d fallen for her trick.

But Moran had little time to lament. His target was on the move, brushing past him on her way out the door. He had to go after her in spite of the pain he was in.

Sebastian willed himself into an upright position and made good use of his long, muscular legs, catching up to Annie quickly. He reached out and grasped her lengthy blonde tresses. The assassin expected her to stop, but she just kept on going.

Annie screamed as a clump of hair was torn from her scalp. Seb glanced at the strands in his hand, noting a tinge of blood left behind. Even he was a bit surprised by the sight.

Panicked, the woman dug into her purse as she ran. Shaking like a leaf, she brandished a small gun and turned around.

BANG. BANG. BANG.  

Moran dropped to the ground, rolling out of the way to avoid her line of fire. She shot a few more times and then fled downstairs. Seb followed in hot pursuit, pushing past guests at a breakneck pace. Eventually, though, he lost track of her amid the crowd. He looked in every direction, but she’d disappeared.

*********

Jim was absolutely terrified. After being pepper sprayed at close range, he was temporarily blinded, his eyes burning like hellfire. His lungs were affected too, making it difficult breathe. The pain was excruciating.   

But that wasn’t the worst of it. What troubled him above all else was the fear for his family. Gunshots were discharged and he had no idea if his mate was okay. He hoped Seb snuffed out Annie, but what if it was the other way around? What if his Tiger was injured…or worse? What if he was gone forever? The thought of it overwhelmed him with sorrow.  

And his babies. His precious little loves. When he jumped at Annie, they responded by kicking up a storm. Now they weren’t moving at all. Were they hurt? Could they have been poisoned by the spray? What if—

_No._ He dared not consider it. But he couldn’t shut off his brain. Couldn’t stop the barrage of horror that barreled through his mind like a runaway freight train.    

_What if Sebby and the babies are dead? My family, wiped out at once._

The prospect was too much to bear. Tears began to spill at an uncontrollable rate. They stung his already burning eyes, but at that point the physical pain no longer fazed him. He was in turmoil, sobbing while balled up on the floor.

So intense was Moriarty’s despair, he didn’t hear when his spouse returned to the room.

“Jimmy?” the sniper spoke, crouching down beside him. “Sweetheart, it’s me.”

“S-seb?”

“Yes, I’m right here.”

“You’re a-a-live,” he rasped. His speech was coming back slowly but surely.  

“Of course I am. I’d never leave you, Magpie. Not willingly, at least.”

“I’m so glad. I heard shots fired and I didn’t know what was happening.”

“Annie had a small pistol concealed in her purse. Luckily, she’s got terrible aim,” Moran remarked. “I’m amazed Colin didn’t teach her how to properly operate a gun.”

“Be grateful for it. I am.”

“Aye,” Seb agree. “We ought to focus on you right now, though. I know you were dosed with that damned capsaicin. It’s good you’re able to talk— some of the effects must be wearing off.”

“I still can’t see. And the babies…they were moving, and now they’re not.”

Sebastian took a deep breath, knowing he needed to remain cool and collected, even though inside, he was a wreck. He had to be strong for his partner’s sake.

“I’m taking you to get medical attention, Jim.” The assassin didn’t give his husband an option to refuse. He simply lifted him into his arms and carried him out the door.

“We’ll take the back exit. Should run into less people there.”

“What about the party?”

“Fuck the party. You’re more important.”

“Sebby, I’m sorry for all this.”

“It’s okay, hon. We can talk about it later. For now, you’d best conserve your strength.”

Moran was an alpha on a mission. The instinct to protect his family was almost primal. He would allow nothing and no one to get in his way.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up-- the next chapter will feature an update on how Jim's doing, and then it will be a prelude to Christmas. I want there to be some sort of lead up before the big holiday reunion.


	81. The Christmas Party – Part 3.5/A Prelude to Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see what happened to Jim and Sebastian following their abrupt exit from the party. Then, the couple prepares for Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Listen to that,” the on-call obstetrician said to Jim and Sebastian as he performed a fetal ultrasound. “Steady heartbeats.”

Both men breathed a sigh of relief, though the mastermind was still concerned with another matter.

“What about the lack of movement?” he asked. “I don’t feel them kicking and they aren’t moving on the monitor either.” Jim could view the screen now, his vision having returned since checking into the hospital.

“Let’s see if we can get them to respond to a bit of stimuli.” The physician pressed down on Moriarty’s abdomen in a few different spots, trying to encourage activity from the twins. Despite his efforts, nothing would cajole them.

The consulting criminal anxiously squeezed his mate’s hand. “Could the fall or the pepper spray have harmed them?” He was very worried. 

“I don’t think so. It’s possible this may be a stress reaction, though,” the medical professional suggested. “When my wife was pregnant with our son, she was in a minor car accident. Afterward, the baby didn’t move for a few hours. He just sort of curled into himself, in a state of shock. It can happen— babies get scared sometimes following a traumatic event.”

Jim was devastated by the news. “I did this, then,” he whispered.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself. It isn’t your fault you got mugged.”

_Mugged, ha,_ he bitterly mused. That was the cover story they gave upon arriving at the ER.

“Honey, no, don’t say that.” Seb leaned down, smoothing a stray lock of his spouse’s hair in a bid to calm him.

“Why not? It’s true.”

“Maybe I ought to leave the two of you alone,” the doctor spoke. “You’re free to go home whenever you’d like, but there’s no rush.”

His statement caught Jim by surprise. “I don’t have to stay overnight?” He almost didn’t believe it. Every other time he visited the hospital, they insisted he remain there.

“Not unless you want to. Your vitals show that you’re doing as well as could be expected for an omega with your medical history. Your blood pressure was elevated at check-in, but has since leveled out, and your vision and breathing have also normalized. I see no reason to keep you here any longer than necessary.”

“I wish you’d been on duty the other times I came in,” Moriarty remarked. “I was beginning to think I should have a room with my name on the door, considering how often I was made to stay.”

The kindly obstetrician smiled. “Well, something tells me that after the experience you had tonight, you’d be better served at home in a warm bed with your husband than in a clinical environment like this.”

He nodded appreciatively. “Thank you.” Before the man exited, Jim said one last thing to him. “Are you certain my children will be okay?”

“I’m 99% sure. If you’re really concerned about their lack of activity, there’s another trick I’ve seen work.”

“What’s that?”

“Drink a cold beverage. I’ve witnessed babies kick like junior footballers after their mums drank ice water.”

“I’ll try it,” the genius quickly announced.

“All right, I’ll have an orderly bring you some,” he promised.

At that, the doctor left the couple alone.

Sebastian immediately wrapped his arms around his Magpie, taking a moment to savor the closeness between them. It felt so good to hold him. The sentiment was mutual, as Jim relaxed in his embrace, letting out a peaceful coo.

“I love you, kitten.”

“I love you, too.” The mastermind scooted over so that his alpha could sit next to him on the bed and continue holding him. “I’m sorry I fucked things up.”

“What actually happened, darling?”

“When I went upstairs to put on my cologne, I found Annie in the nursery.”

“Bloody hell. What was she doing there?”

“She claimed to be searching for a bathroom, but I think it’s safe to assume she was snooping. Perhaps it would be prudent to sweep the room for surveillance devices once we get back.”

“Good idea,” Moran agreed. “What else occurred? It’s clear you had an altercation.”

“We did, yes.” Moriarty hesitated to describe the rest— he knew his decision to take on the woman was reckless, and there was no way he’d come out of the story looking like ‘parent of the year.’ His actions endangered his children and there was no denying it.

“Are you okay? You got kind of quiet all of a sudden.”

“I’m just trying to figure out how to tell you what I did,” he answered. “This isn’t easy. I made some poor choices.”

“Jimmy, I’ve stuck by you through a lot of crazy shite. Nothing you say regarding this evening is going to scare me off. In fact, I’m sure it will barely scratch the surface.”

“I hope you mean that, Tiger.”

“Of course,” Seb reassured, hugging the Irishman a little bit tighter to drive home the point.

“You asked for it,” he warned. “When I saw Annie in the nursery, it was the final straw. I snapped and decided to enact my plan without delay. I lured her to our bedroom and I was ready to drug her. Had the syringe prepped and everything,” he admitted.

The assassin’s expression was sobering. “You went ahead and did it yourself, even after what we discussed?”

“Yeah, I did. I’m not proud of it, but that’s how the situation began. Shall I go on, or are you already so mad, you’ve heard enough?”

“Keep going.” Sebastian was upset by his mate’s disclosure, but shutting the conversation down now wouldn’t do either of them any good. He needed to know the whole story.

“Okay, fine. In a moment of spectacular failure, I was too slow to get the job done,” he grimly informed. “She saw the needle and attempted to flee. I was determined not to let her leave. I tackled her and we struggled. Eventually, the bitch managed to knock the syringe out of my hand and doused me with pepper spray. You were there for what came next.”

The former colonel wearily sighed. “Indeed, I was.”

Silence washed over the duo as Jim waited for Seb to say more, but the man did not speak.

“You have every right to be angry,” Moriarty acknowledged. “I didn’t think, I simply lashed out…the way I always do, I suppose.” He eyed his partner sadly. “If it’s any consolation, I hate myself right now. Throughout this pregnancy, I’ve tried to work on certain aspects of my personality. Tried to be less volatile and impulsive. Tried to consider the consequences of my actions. In some ways, I’ve made progress. But today I fucked up. The ‘old’ Jim took over, and he can be a grade-A arse. A selfish git who does what he wants, when he wants, repercussions be damned.”

“Believe me, I know,” Moran declared. He stared at the smaller man, noting the regret painted across his face. It was genuine.

“I’m sorry I went after Annie with zero backup. We should’ve done it together. I botched what would’ve been a fantastic opportunity to gain information. Worse, though, is how little regard I showed for our children’s welfare. The babies have come to mean everything to me, and yet I entered into a potentially deadly situation without heed. Knowing now that she had a gun…” he trailed off, his eyes growing teary. “It makes me sick, Seb.”

_Oh bollocks._ The sniper couldn’t stay mad at his mate, not when he was looking at him with those big, sad brown eyes and forlorn pout. Jim wasn’t putting on appearances here— this was sincere.

“We all make mistakes, Magpie. The key is to learn from them, and I’m fairly certain you have.”

Jim gazed at his spouse hopefully. “Sebby…my sweet, wonderful Sebby. Thank you.” He snuggled impossibly close to the handsome blonde.

Sebastian smiled. “Comfy?”

“Very mu— ooh!” he suddenly exclaimed in mid-sentence. “I don’t think I’ll be needing that ice water after all. Feel this,” the mastermind excitedly spoke, placing Moran’s hand on his stomach.   

There it was. Their little ones were moving at last. The couple beamed at each other, now not only the most dangerous men in London, but also the happiest.

*********

In the days following the Christmas party, both Jim and Sebastian had their work cut out for them. Cleanup was the first hurdle. It seemed that after the gunshots rang out, revelers were quick to disperse. In their haste, they left a lot of half-eaten foodstuffs on plates and half-drunk cocktails in glasses. Seb didn’t want to tackle the intensive tidying effort by himself, and Jim couldn’t be asked to help in his condition, so a professional service was brought in to make their home habitable again. It was a wise move, as they did excellent work.

Next came Seb’s venture to retrieve the bullets expelled from Annie’s gun. She’d missed him completely, but managed to shoot up the wall in the upstairs hall pretty good. He was able to dig them out and patch the holes with drywall. It was a fairly simple fix, and honestly, he liked being handy around the house. Jim enjoyed it, too. Or at least he appreciated the sight of his strapping sniper in tight jeans and a tool belt.  

The Christmas presents were another matter to be addressed. Moriarty was crafty as ever, sneaking a slew of boxes under the tree while Sebastian napped. He had no trouble moving them because they were all so lightweight. The elegantly wrapped parcels may have been low on heft, but they were rich with love and whimsy. Everything he’d secretly knitted for his mate throughout the past few months was packaged up, waiting to be opened by his smiling spouse.

Jim’s gifting endeavors didn’t end there, oh no. The knitting was merely a bonus to the main event he had organized. Using expert investigative skill and unlimited funds, he’d ensured that his Tiger would have the best damn prezzie in the whole world this holiday season: his family. He’d remained in contact with Dr. Severin Moran since their initial meeting many months ago, and now a proper reunion was to finally take place. The mastermind could hardly contain his glee.

Sev, along with his wife and child, were scheduled to touchdown at Heathrow on Christmas Eve. It was a 24-hour flight from Melbourne to London, with only one stop in between. From there, a driver would chauffeur them to the Moriarty-Moran residence. Once the requisite shock and awe was concluded, Jim planned for them to dine as a group at _‘Le Gavroche,’_ one of the city’s most preeminent French restaurants. Reservations at the eatery had a three-month waiting list, so it was fortunate he’d begun making arrangements early.

The consulting criminal figured things would develop organically during the Moran clan’s stay. They’d exchange introductions, open gifts (because Jim had something for everyone), share a well-catered Christmas feast, and basically spend the week reconnecting. It was going to be marvelous. Moriarty grinned like a Cheshire cat just thinking about it.   

As for what the gallant assassin was giving his Magpie this year, Jim still hadn’t a clue. Amazingly, he found himself feeling okay with that. It wasn’t too long ago when such a mystery would’ve sent him skyrocketing to the brink of madness. Ever since venting his frustrations to his MOPS group, though, much of his anxiety over it had alleviated. Now he was primarily concerned with running a smooth ship this yuletide season. A joyful Christmas would be the greatest gift of all.              

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	82. Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian spend time together on Christmas Eve. Later, guests arrive at their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains some explicit sexual content. Reader discretion is advised. 
> 
> *************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Darling, please try to relax. I know you hate it when a situation is outside of your control, but sometimes these things just happen,” Sebastian said to his anxiously pacing mate. “Come sit down and have breakfast with me. You shouldn’t be on your feet so much, and ‘Colonel Moran’s heavenly hash browns’ are not to be missed.”

“Sebby, how can I eat at a time like this?”

The sniper rolled his eyes. He loved Jim dearly, but the man was nothing if not a consummate drama queen. Today’s cause for alarm was brought on by a weather report calling for heavy snowfall to begin in the evening and continue through until the following night. Seb couldn’t understand why Moriarty was so on edge about it. Yes, it would throw a wrench into their dinner plans, but besides that, what was the big deal? If anything, _he_ was the one who ought to be worried, not Jim. After all, if it stormed too badly, he wouldn’t be able to plant the tree he’d gotten the Irishman as a gift. Thank goodness he thought to purchase a second present in addition to the sapling.

“Why does it have to be now? A week goes by with picture perfect weather, and then suddenly, on Christmas Eve, it plummets straight to hell. Why?”

“Maybe Mother Nature has a twisted sense of humor.”

Jim glared at his partner. “In that case, the bitch isn’t very funny.”

“Kitten, come sit and we’ll talk.”

Moriarty begrudgingly complied, taking a seat across from the blonde. He promptly began devouring the plate of eggs, hash browns, and fruit mélange Seb had set out.

“I thought you were too upset to eat?”

“I am, but the babies require sustenance.”

“Uh huh,” Moran replied, not sounding convinced.

“It’s true,” he insisted.

“I’m sure it is, dear.”

The mastermind grumbled, feeling patronized. “If you’re going to give me a hard time, I can finish my meal in the dining room.”

“Oh Magpie, calm down. I’m merely trying to lighten the mood. You seem awfully worked up about the weather and I can’t quite fathom why.”

Jim sighed in frustration. He couldn’t tell him he was worried that the snowstorm might interfere with Severin’s flight, thus throwing the whole reunion into question. He wished he could be honest, but it would ruin the surprise. Instead, he’d have to concoct a plausible excuse.

“Have I mentioned that _‘Le Gavroche’_ has a three-month waitlist for reservations? Three months, Seb. If we miss this, we won’t have another opportunity to dine there until after the twins are born. And at that stage, would we still want to go? A five-star restaurant is no place to bring newborns, and I certainly won’t allow some stranger to watch our little ones just so that we can attend. They’d be far too young to send off to a babysitter. I’ve seen the news reports— I know what happens when you leave infants in other people’s care. They _die,_ Seb. They’re neglected, shaken, slapped, drugged so that they’ll stay asleep and won’t cry. It’s terrible and I won’t permit anyone but us to watch Essie and Eddie for at least the first year of their lives. So if we don’t go tonight, then we don’t go, period. Do you get it now?” 

Sebastian blinked, taken aback by his spouse’s rambling screed. He wasn’t sure what he expected Jim to say, but it wasn’t that.

“Sweetheart,” the assassin spoke, “if that’s what you’re concerned about, let me gently point out that you’re an expert hacker. If you really wanted to, you could infiltrate their database and assign yourself a reservation for whenever you’d like.”

 _Bollocks._ Moriarty hadn’t counted on him offering such a pragmatic response. But then again, Seb always was smarter than your average gun-for-hire. It was one of the things that had made him fall in love with the man all those years ago. 

Jim let out a nervous laugh. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. If a system has a backdoor, I can crack it. I guess sometimes I lose sight of the forest for the trees.”

Moran smiled warmly. “It’s fine, darling. The holidays can throw anyone off kilter. Now that a solution’s been brought to your attention, you can relax.”

“Relax. Yeah. That’s the ticket.”

 _Ugh._ Jim knew this was going to be a long afternoon. He hoped he had the fortitude to withstand it.

*********

As early evening rolled around, Moriarty was on pins and needles. Snow had started falling and he had no idea if Severin’s flight arrived at Heathrow on time. The airline’s website noted that some bookings would be affected, but annoyingly, did not specify which ones those were. Texting the elder Moran sibling did no good— he’d apparently shut off his phone prior to boarding. Still, the mastermind sent a car to pick him up. He’d not heard back from the driver, so perhaps things remained on schedule. It was the uncertainty that made him want to scream.

“You’re carrying so much tension in your back, love. It’s no wonder you complain of it aching.” Sebastian and Jim rested atop a makeshift ‘nest’ of pillows and blankets in front of the fireplace. The sniper was in the midst of giving his mate a massage, working magic on the smaller man’s sore muscles.

“Ooh, Tiger, your fingers are a godsend.” He laid on his side while receiving the rubdown, so as not to put undue pressure on his abdomen.  

“I’m not sure god has anything to do with them, but they have served me well on many occasions.”

“I bet.”

A sly expression settled across Seb’s face. He was feeling rather amorous and thought that maybe a bit of passion would help his husband unwind.

“Blimey, it’s getting toasty in here,” the blonde declared as he paused to remove his shirt. He didn’t miss the way Jim turned his head to admire the view. In fact, Moriarty was ogling him quite shamelessly.

“Like what you see, Magpie?” he asked, flashing a come-hither gleam.    

“I dooooo.”

“Then you won’t mind if I ditch the rest.”

Before the genius could reply, Moran had undressed and was standing brazenly in the nude. Jim’s mouth formed into a grin as he was captivated by the sight of Seb’s gorgeous, well-toned physique. The firelight framed him in a gentle glow, giving his visage an almost ethereal quality. It was mesmerizing.

“Oh darling, you really are magnificent.”

“So are you, kitten.”

The former colonel knelt down beside his partner. Moriarty responded immediately, grasping the chain he wore his dog tags on and pulling him in for a kiss. It was a heated, hungry exchange that left them both in need of more.

Sebastian tugged at Jim’s sweater, yanking it off and mussing the Irishman’s hair in the process.

“Let me make you more comfortable, honey.” He gathered up some of the extra pillows surrounding them and placed the cushions beneath his omega. “How’s that?”

“Diviiiiine.”

“Good.”

Having received confirmation of Jim’s well-being, Seb resumed his lustful ministrations. He kissed along the man’s collarbone and began sucking a spot on his neck.

The consulting criminal grunted, goosebumps rising on his skin as he grew increasingly aroused. He wanted this, he truly did. But…

 _What if our guests arrive?_ He didn’t know if they’d be on time or not. Should he put an end to his and Seb’s carnal activities just in case they showed up?

The trouble was, Moriarty didn’t _want_ to stop. He relished the sensation of his husband’s bare body pressed against his own. Savored the touch, taste, and scent of him. That, in conjunction with the mastermind’s hormonally-driven urges, made for a dangerous combination. 

Jim could feel the assassin’s hardened manhood through the barrier of his clothing. He wished that he, too, was unsheathed.

“Help me take off my pants,” he swiftly commanded.        

“With pleasure.”

Moran undid his mate’s trousers and slid a hand inside. He stroked the dampening fabric of his underwear, eliciting a delicious moan from Moriarty.

“Are you enjoying this?” the sniper wantonly inquired, though he already knew the answer.  

“God, yes,”    

Sebastian seized the genius’s mouth while continuing to caress his leaking length. Their tongues met in fervent delight as Jim bucked upward, grinding into his alpha’s palm.

“I want to make love to you,” the blonde tenderly whispered between kisses.

“I do, too.”

Seb smiled seductively and slid Moriarty’s pants all the way off, stripping him of his briefs as well. For just a moment, he sat back on his knees and admired the Irishman. He looked so handsome, alit by the gentle flicker of the hearth. So sexy and serene.

“Magpie, I—”

DING. DONG.

Moran’s statement was cut short by the sudden chime of the doorbell.

“Who the fuck would be at our door during a snowstorm?” the assassin complained. “Carolers, maybe?”

Jim’s eyes widened as panic set in. _Oh no._ He knew who it was.

DING. DONG.

“I’m letting it go. They can move right along to the next house.”

“Wait. Maybe we should answer it.”

Sebastian shot his spouse a look of incredulity. “Are you kidding me?”

“It’s possible someone’s car broke down and they need help.”

“Since when do you care about random people’s problems?”

“Since I became a parent,” he sharply informed. “They might have small children who’ll freeze to death if they don’t get assistance.”

DING. DONG.

The bell chimed yet again, and the two men stared at each other long enough for Seb to realize that Jim wasn’t going to back down.

“Fine, I’ll see who’s there.” The blonde threw on his jeans, grumbling at the erection that strained inside his pants. “I can’t answer the door like this! They’ll think I’m some kind of pervert.”

“Wrap yourself in a blanket. We’ve got plenty,” the mastermind said, referring to the surplus that surrounded them after Seb had decided to build a fireside nest.

“Good idea.” He grabbed one off the floor and wore it like a cloak. As he turned around, he noticed Moriarty was also getting dressed. “What are you doing, hon? Once I deal with these folks, I’m coming back.” 

“Yes, well, who knows how long it will take.”

The former colonel frowned. “I suppose that’s true.”

DING. DONG.

“They certainly are persistent.”

“Indeed. Help me stand up and then get moving.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

As Seb neared the door, Jim counted the seconds in his head. _5, 4, 3, 2, 1— Open._

And there they were.

Sebastian stood face-to-face with Severin for the first time in almost twenty-five years. Not only that, but he had a woman and child in tow.

“Merry Christmas!” the older Moran greeted.

The sniper remained motionless, utterly gobsmacked.

Moriarty soon approached. “Hello, everyone! So glad you could make it, especially with such unfortunate weather. Please, come in.” He was beaming as he ushered the trio inside the house.

Seb pulled his grinning mate aside, seeking an explanation, but was too shocked to properly articulate a question. “Jimmy, how…when…what is this?”

“It’s a family reunion, darling,” he matter-of-factly replied. “Just in time for the holidays. They’ll be here all week.”

“I…well…wow.”

This was going to be interesting.

 

 

To Be Continued…  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will feature Christmas Eve dinner, and then Christmas Day festivities. My goal is to have it posted on December 24th or 25th.


	83. Christmas Eve, Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian host a Moran family reunion, just in time for the holidays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

It was Christmas Eve and James Moriarty was acting as the consummate host. He graciously welcomed the Morans into his home, the trifecta consisting of Severin, his wife Paige, and their daughter Penelope. He made sure everyone’s luggage was brought safely inside, and then served his guests a piping pot of Earl Grey tea. Now they sat in the living room, sipping cuppas as Jim attempted to break the ice.

“I imagine it must’ve been a madhouse at the airport,” he said. “With the blizzard going on, I honestly didn’t know if your flight would come in on time.”

“It was a brutal commute,” Sev remarked. “We were playing it by ear as to whether or not we’d be grounded, but ultimately, we got lucky. Ours was one of the last flights to make it to Heathrow without an extensive delay.”

The consulting criminal smiled. “I think it’s a sign that this was meant to be. Come hell or high water, we’re supposed to spend the holiday together. Don’t you agree, Seb?” He turned to glance at his mute mate. The younger Moran sibling had barely spoken a word since his family arrived.   

“Uh…yeah. Sure, hon.” He awkwardly clutched at the blanket wrapped around him, still processing the whirlwind reunion he’d been thrust into. What was the protocol for a situation like this? He wished he knew.

“I’m hungry,” Penelope declared. The auburn-haired preteen sat cross-legged on the couch, playing a game on her iPad.

“Well, good news— tonight we have reservations at an exclusive French restaurant,” Moriarty informed. “They make the _best_ crème brûlée. You’ll love it.”     

Severin arched a brow. “Sounds nice, but I’m not certain the place will be open this evening. On the drive over, it looked like a lot of businesses were closing early because of the storm.”

Jim scowled intensely, his perfect composure waning. Without missing a beat, he pulled out his phone and began dialing a number. He stood up from the group, walking just outside the room to conduct the call.

“This is my first time in England,” Paige stated, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

“Oh? How do you like it?”

“As first impressions go, it’s definitely a change of pace. Our seasons are reversed,” she noted. “It’s sunny in Australia right now. I didn’t think I’d ever see a true ‘white Christmas,’ but here we are. Life’s surprising sometimes.”

“It sure is.”

Penelope looked up from her handheld device and stared at the sniper. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” she abruptly asked.

“Penny!” her mum chided. “This is your uncle’s home and he didn’t know we were coming. He was probably relaxing and didn’t have a chance to put on a shirt before we got here.”

“He kept us waiting forever. There was plenty of time.”

Paige looked absolutely mortified by her daughter’s blunt commentary. She turned to Sebastian, apologetic. “Please, forgive Penny’s lack of tact. If it’s on her mind, it’s on her lips.”

Seb chuckled. “It’s quite all right. I have experience with that type.”

As if on cue, Jim could be heard raising his voice from the doorway.

“Unacceptable! How could you _possibly_ expect that to be adequate compensation? A voucher for a free appetizer hardly makes up for shutting down on Christmas Eve!”

“This doesn’t bode well for our dinner plans, does it?” the woman whispered.

Moriarty returned to the living room, his glower an indication that all was not well. “I regret to announce that, due to inclement weather, our reservations at _‘Le Gavroche’_ have been cancelled. Worse yet, numerous eateries throughout London are closing as we speak, so there’s really nowhere for us to go this evening. I’m sorry we’re getting off to such an abysmal start.”

“No reason to be upset, darling. Let’s whip up something ourselves,” Seb suggested.

“What a fabulous idea,” Paige enthused. “I love to cook. Do it all the time at home. Tell them, Sev.”

The older blonde nodded. “It’s true,” he confirmed. “She’s a bit of an amateur chef. Makes a chicken kiev that’s to die for.”  

“Hmm.” The mastermind considered the prospect. They did need to eat; there was no getting around that fact. Under the circumstance, preparing their own meal seemed to be the only option. “Okay, we’ll cook. The fridge is fully stocked. Surely we can rustle up a palatable dish. My sole stipulation is that we work as a team. I’ll not have you doing it alone.”

“Of course,” Paige agreed. “This is your house— it makes sense you’d want to be involved in the process.”

“Glad we’ve got an understanding. Come, and I’ll show you to the kitchen.”

Jim began wheeling away when Penelope suddenly called out to him.

“Hey, can I use your pool?” the girl inquired. “I was told there’d be a heated pool here. I brought my own bathing suit and everything.”

“If it’s all right with your parents, it’s fine by me,” he answered, deferring to the couple for a decision.

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Paige acknowledged, “but wouldn’t you rather spend some quality time with your Uncle Seb?”

“We’ll be here all week. I can hang out with him later.”

The woman sighed. “Okay. I expect you back for dinner, though.”

“Got it.” Penny paused, realizing there was one pertinent question she’d failed to ask. “How do I get to the pool, anyway?”

“Down the far corridor to your left,” the genius explained. “It’s just beyond a set of carved double doors.”

“Cool, thanks.” She grabbed the bag containing her swimwear and headed off.

“Sebastian, I want to apologize in case my daughter has come across as slightly rude,” Paige spoke. “She’s twelve…you know how kids are at that age.”

“No worries,” the assassin assured. “It’s got to be difficult for her, traveling to another continent to meet people she never knew existed until recently.”

Severin shot his brother a wounded glare. “She’s always been aware of you, Seb. Why would I hide such a thing?”

The younger Moran was caught off guard by his sibling’s admission. “Because of our estrangement,” he said. “You didn’t want me in your life, so I naturally assumed you’d omit me from discussion.”

“That’s not true,” Sev countered. “I’ve often thought about you. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you didn’t try looking me up for over two decades. As it is, Jim’s the one who found you. If he hadn’t put in the effort, we wouldn’t be talking right now.”

“This argument goes both ways, Seb. You didn’t exactly hunt me down, either.”

A silence washed over the room and Moriarty grew nervous. This wasn’t how the reunion was supposed to go. It was meant to be magical and joyful. A celebration of familial glee.

 _It still could be,_ a tiny voice in his mind proclaimed. _You brought them together physically, which was a good start. But now it’s time for the most important part— you’ve got to bring them together emotionally as well._

He knew what he needed to do.

“Tiger, I want you to show Severin around the house. No shortcuts— he gets the grand tour.”

“Seriously, Jim?”

“Very. The two of you will go exploring while Paige and I make dinner.”

“If you insist.” The blonde relented, tossing away his blanket covering and retrieving his discarded shirt. Once properly dressed, he tapped Sev on the shoulder, urging him to come along. “Up and at ‘em. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”        

“After a 24-hour flight, it’ll be a relief to stretch my legs,” the older man remarked while walking adjacent to his brother.

Soon, the room was empty except for Jim and Paige. The woman eyed him slyly, a smile gracing her face.  

“I see what you did there.”

“Me?”

“Yes _you_ ,” she repeated for emphasis. “You set our husbands up so that they’ll have to talk to each other, thus laying the groundwork for them to reconnect. It’s brilliant.”

The consulting criminal flashed a devilish grin. “I know.”

He’d planted the seeds, now it was up to the Moran brothers as to whether their relationship withered or bloomed.  

*********

Sebastian followed his mate’s instructions, leading Severin on an expedition through the wilds of their residence. It took some time, but eventually they made it to the final stop; the place he’d deliberately saved for last: the games room. This was a recreational area containing a billiards table, dart board, pinball machine, and minibar. The sniper thought that maybe, just maybe, he and his brother could hang out and have a bit of fun the way they used to in their formative years.

“Impressive layout you’ve got here,” Sev complimented. “The whole house is exquisite, but this is a place you could really unwind in.”

“Believe me, I do.” Seb turned to the bar and poured himself a tumbler of whiskey. “Care for a drink?”

“Yes, that would be splendid.”

The assassin obliged, handing Severin a glass. “Cheers.”

Both men toasted, taking hearty sips of the amber liquid. It wasn’t long before they were in need of refills, the pair deciding to take the bottle with them and sit down on the couch.

“Glad to know you have superb taste in liquor, Sebby. This is a fine variety.”

The younger man almost did a spit take. “You haven’t called me that since we were kids.”

“I haven’t seen you since then, so yeah, that’s probably true.”

Another hush beset the siblings. It was as if they wanted to open up a dialogue, but couldn’t quite figure out how. After so many years of separation, was it possible to rebuild a bond? Was there anything to salvage?

Sebastian hoped so. Deep down, he’d missed his brother more intensely than he ever let on. After their parents passed away, Sev was his only relative. When he left as well, the sniper felt very much like an orphan. He was always able to relate to Jim’s plight in that sense— in his heart, he was alone, too. But now…now he had an opportunity to change things. Reset the situation and get some of his family back. It would be foolish not to at least try to mend fences, even if it was simply for his children’s sake. Bearing that in mind, the former colonel chose to speak up.

“So you’re a doctor,” he began, “a neonatal specialist, I’ve been told. How’d that happen?”

“An outstanding question, my dear Seb.” He took another swig of whiskey and continued, “When I left home to backpack across Europe, I got more than I bargained for.”

“How do you mean?”

“I saw things that shook me up. Rattled me in a way I couldn’t forget.”

“Such as?”

“Women,” Sev somberly replied. “Women in Belarus and the Ukraine, who lived in villages that were little more than glorified toxic dumping grounds. Many of their babies were stillborn, and those that survived often had severe physiological problems. Defects you wouldn’t want to imagine. It was the stuff of nightmares.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Indeed. I couldn’t shake what I’d seen. The suffering of those children was too much. I had to do something,” he declared. “I decided to dedicate my life to helping medicine’s tiniest, most delicate patients— newborns. The infants I assist on a day-to-day basis may not be as bad off as those I encountered in Eastern Europe, but I still feel as though I’ve made great strides through what I’ve done. It’s fulfilling work, Seb.”

He nodded. “I’m proud of you, Severin.”

“Thanks. I’m sure it must seem hard to believe, considering what a layabout I used to be.”

“I’ll admit, it’s a surprise. But in a good way, you know? A beer-guzzling slacker grows up to become a champion who saves sickly newborns. It’s inspiring.”

“Champion? That’s a bit heavy-handed, but I’ll take it,” he quipped. “What about you? I’m not 100% clear on what it is you do.”

Sebastian took a deep breath. It would be difficult explaining the profession he was in. Best not to get overly specific.

“I used to work for the military and then I freelanced a bit. Now my employer is James Moriarty. Has been for several years, actually.”

“Yes, but what do your services entail?”

“You name it. Anything Jim wants, I deliver.”

Sev smirked. “So basically, he’s got you whipped in and out of the bedroom?”      

“Blimey. Someone’s getting awfully cheeky. Perhaps you’ve had enough to drink.”

The elder Moran shrugged. “I’m not wrong, though, am I?”

“He has my heart,” the assassin said. “I worked for him…and then I loved him. Most amazing of all, he loved me back.” Seb paused, reflecting on his and Jim’s storied relationship. “Tell me, does it bother you?” 

“What? That you’re involved with a crime lord? Certainly, I’d prefer it if my little brother had selected a safer mate, but at the end of the day, the heart wants what the heart wants.”

“I mean, does it bother you that I’m married to a man? Are you surprised by it?”

Severin sighed, gazing softly at his sibling. “Honestly? No. We grew up together, Seb. You think I didn’t see the way you looked at other boys? It was the same way you looked at girls. I always figured you’d be just as likely to end up with a man as you would a woman.”

“I didn’t realize I was so obvious,” he replied, flushing with embarrassment.

“Relax— you weren’t. Being the oldest, I felt like it was my job to watch you closely. I noticed things no one else would.”

“Ah, a wise observer. Guess I didn’t give you enough credit.”

“It’s water under the bridge.” Sev tossed back another measure of whiskey and spoke, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch. At first, it was impossible because I was traveling abroad without a permanent address. But later, when I put down roots and went to university, I should’ve tried to find you. There’s no good excuse for my neglect. Do you think you could forgive what a shitty brother I’ve been?”

“If you can forgive me for the same,” Sebastian stated. “As you pointed out earlier, the matter goes both ways.”

“Let’s agree to start over. Put the sins of the past behind us and proceed from here.”

“I’d like that.”

“Excellent. I propose we make a toast— to family.”

“To family,” the sniper repeated.

The Morans raised their glasses in salute, marking a promise they both sought to keep.

*********

“Ready for a taste?” Paige asked, offering a spoonful of freshly prepared pesto to Jim.

“Honey, you know it.” He eagerly sampled the sauce, his eyes growing wide the instant it hit his tongue. “This is amaaaazing.”

“Thank you. How are the noodles coming along?”

Jim pulled a strand of linguini from a bubbling pot, biting into it. “They’re not quite done, but will be shortly.”

“Wonderful. I dare say we make a fine culinary duo.”

“This has been fun,” he concurred. “Have you ever tried your hand at baking?”

“I’ve dabbled, but not attempted anything too challenging. Penny’s a budding baker, though.”

The consulting criminal cocked his head, intrigued. “Is she?”

“Oh yes. Swimming is her primary passion, but whipping up cookies and tortes is a close second. Before her grandmum passed away, they spent a lot of time baking together.”

An idea quickly came to Moriarty’s mind. “Perhaps that’s something we could do together as well,” he posited. “You, me, and Penelope will start a brand new tradition— Christmas baking with Uncle Jim.”

Paige smiled happily. “That’d be very nice. I think she’d enjoy that, and I would, too.” 

“Then it’s settled. Tonight, we dine. Tomorrow, we bake.”

 

 

Soon, dinner was ready and all members of the Moran clan gathered to share in a delicious, albeit unconventional, holiday feast. Linguini with pesto and leftover chicken wasn’t what anyone had originally counted on, but as spur-of-the-moment meals go, it turned out pretty damn well.

After dinner, Paige and Penelope settled in, familiarizing themselves with the mansion while Severin and Seb played darts. As for Jim, he simply sat back and watched on in delight. His childhood dream of having a family had finally come true.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, everyone! Hope you're all doing well. 
> 
> It's difficult for me to say this, but I'm not going to have the "Christmas Day" chapter ready by December 25th. It will most likely be posted a day or two later. I feel terrible about this and offer my sincerest apologies. I hope I haven't disappointed anyone too badly. Again, I'm sorry.


	84. Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Christmas Day in the Moriarty-Moran household. Fluff, angst, and whimsy abound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

At last, Christmas Day had arrived. Jim was the first to awaken, up bright and early before anyone else in the house. He seized the opportunity to sneak off and place some strategic phone calls, making arrangements for a holiday feast to be delivered despite the treacherous weather conditions. He’d learned long ago that if you threw enough money at a problem, you could often garner whatever result you wished. This case was no different. For an ample fee, he was able to secure the services of someone willing to brave the storm and bring them a fully catered meal. He delighted at the notion of surprising his guests in such a way. With all the snow, they’d never dream it possible.

After dinner was ensured, Moriarty settled in front of the fireplace and removed his babies’ stockings from the mantle. He planned to ‘show’ the twins what was inside, but didn’t want to do it in front of other people. This was a private matter and they simply wouldn’t understand— Seb included. His mate already thought it strange that he was buying presents for children who were not yet born. If he caught him conducting a gift unveiling ceremony with them, he might never hear the end of it.

“Which one should I dive into first?” he wondered aloud. Plagued by indecision, he resorted to a round of ‘Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.’ This led to the selection of Eddie’s stocking.   

He grinned broadly. “Okay, my little prince. Are you ready to hear what Santa brought?”

Jim pulled an item from the festive, monogrammed sock. “Looks like you’ve got a lovely set of alphabet blocks. You’ll have loads of fun with these, sweetheart. Once you’re out of Daddy’s tummy, I’ll teach you how to spell your name. I’m sure you’ll be a quick study,” he said, resting a hand on his abdomen. There was a slight bit of movement, but nothing significant. “Not overly impressed, aye, son? Well, you are my child— it would probably take more than a few wooden blocks to wow me, too.”

His next gift was for Essie. It was a Rubik's Cube. “The lady at the shop thought I was craaaaazy for buying a baby a puzzle like this, but she doesn’t know you the way I do, darling. If you take after me— and I’m _sure_ you will— you’ll be solving greater complexities than this before you’re out of diapers.”

Suddenly, the mastermind felt a strong kick from within. He was absolutely beaming in response. “Enthusiastic about that one, huh? I suspected you would be,” he happily declared. “Back to you now, Edward. Let’s see what else Santa has in store for London’s finest little lad.”

Jim continued pulling out presents for the twins, describing them as he went along. What he seemingly didn’t realize was that his spouse was watching. The sniper hid outside the doorway, peeking in on one of the sweetest things he’d ever seen. When Jim produced a miniature G.I. Joe action figure and stated that the army man was ‘rugged and brave’ like their Papa, it damn near brought a tear to his eye.

Eventually, the consulting criminal exhausted the contents of the stockings, setting them aside and then turning his head towards the door.

“I’m done now, Tiger. You can stop gawking and come in.”

Seb entered the living room with a stunned look on his face. “You knew I was standing there? How?”

“You’re my alpha, dear. I’d recognize your scent anywhere.”

“Ah, foiled again by your keen senses,” he teased, approaching his mate. The blonde leaned down, gently kissing the top of Jim’s head and inhaling the sweetness of his hair. “Speaking of scents, you smell amazing. Like freshly baked cookies or cinnamon buns,” he stated. “I could devour you.”

“Ooh, promises, promises, my love. I’d hold you to that offer, but we do have guests.”

Moran grunted, forever enticed by the smaller man’s flirtatious ways.

“It’s actually kind of funny you bring up baked goods. I have plans to make cookies with Paige and Penelope later today.”

“Really? That’s wonderful, hon. I’m glad you’re getting on well with them.”

“We’ve only just met, so it remains to be seen how things will go in the long-term. Still, I do hope for the best.” He paused, reflecting on the situation. “You made strides with Severin last night.”

“Indeed, I did. He’s not the wanker I remember, Jim. He’s actually become a halfway decent bloke.”

The genius smiled. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”

“Yeah, I guess it kind of is.”

A peaceful calm washed over the couple as they enjoyed the simple pleasure of being in each other’s company. They treasured quiet moments like these. 

“Magpie?”

“Yes?”

“I know you also bought the babies new stuffed animals for their playroom. Shall we go upstairs and you can tell them about those as well?”

“You’d want to be there while I do that?” he cautiously inquired.

“I would,” Seb confirmed, giving his husband’s shoulder a reassuring pat. “The things I heard you say to our children were beautiful. I’d love to listen to more.”

Jim was taken aback by the assassin’s admission, but in the most wonderful, remarkable way. “Let’s go,” he announced, not wishing to dally.

Off they went, riding the elevator to the second floor in search of plush turtles and teddy bears. All the while, their hearts were bursting with affection for each other, for their little ones, and for the whole holiday season.

*********

The Morans slept long and hard. So long, in fact, that by the time they arose, it was mid-afternoon. Jim let them sleep because he knew all too well the hell of jetlag and time zone hopping. He’d done his fair share of traveling through the years and did not envy those who had to commute from England to Australia, and vice versa. Theirs was a grueling cross to bear.    

His guests’ late wakeup proved surprisingly fortuitous. It allowed him and his mate to receive their catered meal and set everything up in the dining room while the group remained blissfully unaware. When they emerged from hibernation, they were treated to a repast of roast turkey, potatoes, glazed carrots, and cranberry sauce. It was an old-fashioned feast worthy of any proper English dinner table.   

“Jim, this is spectacular. How did you manage it?” Paige asked, truly amazed by the spread.

He flashed a devilish smirk. “I have my ways.”

“It looks delicious,” Severin said. “Where should I sit?”

“Anywhere you’d like.” Moriarty hesitated for a beat, adding, “Tiger, take a seat so that Sev and I can assemble on either side of you.” 

“Sure thing, hon.” The sniper did as requested, and soon the others followed suit, settling into their respective spots at the table.

“Ordinarily, I’d refuse to share my hubby with anyone, but you _are_ family, so I’m making an exception.”

The elder Moran chuckled. “That’s very generous of you, Jim.”

“It reaaaaally is, yes.”

Several serving dishes were passed around, allowing each person to take as much as they wanted. Any inkling of doubt about the catering was laid to rest after the first few bites. The food was excellent and there was no denying it.

With that aspect out of the way, now came the hard part— initiating conversation.

“Soooo…how do you usually celebrate Christmas in Australia?” Jim inquired.

“We tend to keep the festivities small,” Sev informed. “Neither Paige nor myself have many relatives, so there’s never been a need for anything grandiose. I think the most extravagant we got was the year we prepared lobster thermidor. It was pricey, but worth every penny.”

“Ooh, I adoooore lobster. Haven’t had it in ages, though. I was warned to avoid shellfish during pregnancy due to the mercury content.”

“Yeah,” Severin spoke, “best to err on the side of caution.”

“How far along are you?” Paige prodded. “I saw the nursery last night and it was utterly enchanting. Such regal décor.” 

“Thank you,” the Irishman replied. “I’m very pleased with how the room turned out. And for the record, I’m 7 months now.”

“They’ll be here before you know it.”

He nodded. “I can scarcely believe it. The time’s flown by so fast, it seems like just yesterday I was having my first sonogram.”

“Once they’re born, it only gets worse. Time, I mean. One minute you’ll be holding a tiny baby in your arms, staring into a beautiful set of brand new eyes, and then _BAM_. You’ll look again, and that sweet little baby will be almost halfway grown and hardly need you anymore.”

“Mum,” Penelope interrupted, “don’t be so melodramatic. It’s Christmas and you’re bumming people out.”

“Am I? If that’s true, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention. I’m merely trying to offer some advice from one mother to another,” she stated. “Cherish every second you have with your children, because it goes by in an instant.”

Paige’s words cut Jim to the core, hitting on an issue he’d struggled with for far too long. He was perpetually uncertain about whether or not he should walk away from his empire to raise his babies. He didn’t want to miss them growing up. Didn’t want their relationship to be akin to ships passing in the night, and one day find that they’d become fully formed adults he’d never bothered getting to know. The idea of it made him heartsick.

“Magpie, are you okay?” Sebastian’s voice was steeped with concern as he leaned over to wipe a tear from the consulting criminal’s eye.

“I…uh…” He didn’t realize he’d grown misty until that moment.

“See what you did, mum? You made Uncle Jim cry.”

“Oh, bloody hell,” he mumbled under his breath. This was _not_ the impression he’d hoped to make on Seb’s family. Not by a longshot.

“Jim, I’m so sorry.”

“No, Paige, it isn’t your fault. My hormones are maddening. I get rattled by the smallest things lately.”

“I understand, but Penny’s right— I am a bit maudlin at times,” she acknowledged. “I like to joke that Severin loves me in spite of my personality, not because of it.”

“Sounds similar to me and Seb,” Moriarty remarked. “Guess we’ve got something in common.”

“The Moran boys sure know how to pick their mates,” she jested, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’d say we have impeccable taste,” Sebastian proclaimed, giving Jim’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” said Sev. “We absolutely do.” He, too, grasped his spouse’s hand in a show of solidarity.

Penelope stared at the adults surrounding her and rolled her eyes. “Old people are _so_ weird.”

The whole group got a good laugh out of the girl’s candid assessment. It was just what they needed to diffuse the tension in the room. From there on out, the conversation flowed effortlessly.

*********

Shortly after finishing up dinner, everyone retired to the living room for a gift exchange. Actually, it wasn’t so much an exchange as it was Jim playing Santa to his guests. He gave each member of the family a box containing various knitted items he’d crafted throughout the past several months. Hats, gloves, socks, and scarves were included in the mix.

It was Sebastian, however, who received the most exciting package of all. When he opened his box, he was immediately bombarded by the color scheme.

Black. Orange. Black. Orange. Black. Orange.

And it was striped. Not just any stripes, either. These were—

“It’s a tiger print sweater,” the mastermind gleefully announced, “for my Tiger.”

“Aw, thank you, sweetie.” He gave his husband an appreciative peck on the cheek.

“I expect you to wear it at some point this week.”

“Duly noted.” It was gaudier than the former colonel’s usual wardrobe, but if it made Jim happy, he’d oblige. “Are you ready to see your presents now, too?” 

“Bring them on.”

Seb left the room for a moment, returning with a pushcart that held a large wrapped box and a potted sapling with a red bow fastened around it.

Moriarty gazed at the gifts, slightly confused. “You got me…a _tree_?”

“Yes, and it hasn’t been easy hiding it from you. First, I had to stash it in the shed, and then, after you fell asleep last night, I snuck it inside the house. My idea is to plant it in the yard and we can watch it grow alongside our family.”

The Irishman’s expression softened as he was overtaken by emotion yet again. At this rate, his in-laws would never believe him to be the most dangerous man in London, but screw it. He was also a hormonally-charged omega at Christmastime. Allowances could be made.

“Sebby, that’s wonderful. We’ll have to find a way to keep it alive in here until the snow clears. Maybe put it in the solarium— it’d get plenty of light there.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He hugged Jim tenderly and whispered in his ear, "Go on and open the big box. It has an accessible side panel.”

“Okay.”

Moriarty proceeded to unlock the mystery of his second, and final, gift. The looks on his guests’ faces suggested that they were interested as well. After a fair amount of ripping, tearing, and slashing via a box cutter, he was finally able to liberate his prezzie. The cackle he let out on sight was priceless.

It was a motorized wheelchair— the kind elderly people rode around on in tv adverts.

“I know something like this may seem a bit off-the-wall, but practically speaking, it would afford you greater mobility. Plus, you wouldn’t have to work your arms as much.”

“I think it’d be fun,” Penelope interjected. “Imagine zipping through a shop in that thing.”

The mental image made Jim laugh harder. Even Severin and Paige appeared amused.

Seb was a tad flustered by their reactions. “If you want to return it, I’ve got the receipt.”     

“Return it? Never. Hell, I intend to try it out today.” The genius turned to the ladies in his company. “Paige, Penelope,” he addressed, “the kitchen tile would be great for racing on. How about the three of us head in there so that I can test out the chair, and then we do a bit of baking while we’re at it? I’d love to see how fast it takes me to get from the counter to the oven.”

“Can I ride it, too?” the girl asked.

He grinned. “Impress me with your baking abilities and I might consider it.”

This got Penny excited. “Then it’s as good as guaranteed.”

Moriarty arched a brow. “Awfully confident, aye?”

“Just honest. My grandmum taught me all about baking when I was little, and she made pastries professionally. So you could say I’ve been expertly trained.”   

“Splendid. I look forward to working with such a formidable authority on the subject.” Jim was getting a big kick out of his precocious niece. She was forthright in the most adorable way.

“Well,” Seb spoke, “if that’s the plan, we’d best get this chair out of the box and make sure it’s fully charged.”     

“I leave that up to you, darling. I’m in no position to be performing strenuous tasks. I am, however, quite willing to supervise.” The consulting criminal celebrated any opportunity which required his gorgeous mate to crouch and bend while he simply sat back and watched. 

“I’ll help,” the older Moran declared. “Two sets of muscle are better than one.”

Jim bit his lip, suppressing a cheeky remark. He was making a conscious effort to behave in front of Penny.  

“Is there anything I can do to assist?” Paige asked. “I feel badly about not having brought presents for you and Seb.”

“Hush. Just you being here is enough of a gift,” the mastermind insisted.

“That’s right,” Sebastian agreed. “A commute like yours is no easy feat. You’ve traveled halfway across the world, and then been made to contend with hellish weather. I almost think I should be giving you something for your trouble.”

She smiled. “You already are. You’re giving hospitality.”

 _Hospitality._ It was interesting food for thought. He and Jim so rarely opened their doors— or their hearts— to other people. They never really had a reason to, until recently. It felt good. Perhaps, he mused, this could be the start of a new chapter in all of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone for their patience, as it took me longer than expected to get this chapter out.


	85. Once Upon a Snowy Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Moran family reunion continues in the wake of a snowstorm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Citizens throughout London rejoiced as the snow had finally stopped falling. Streets were plowed and businesses reopened, allowing people to resume their day-to-day activities. Private property holders, however, were on their own when it came to dealing with the aftermath. If you wanted your residence cleared, you had to manage it yourself. 

Jim offered to hire a professional to dig them out of the snow, but the Moran brothers insisted that they could handle it. So far, he was none too impressed. They’d been outside for close to an hour, yet had barely made a dent in the wintry deluge. 

“Should’ve called a plow company,” the mastermind muttered in a hushed tone.

The only reason he’d agreed to their foolhardy endeavor was because he thought it might be good for them to work together. Sometimes bonds could be strengthened through shared experiences, and he hoped that perhaps this was one such case. Their lack of progress was making him rethink the matter, though. 

“I’ve never seen so much snow,” a voice said from behind. It was Penelope.

“I imagine this is a rare treat for you, aye?”

“Yeah,” she replied, now looking out the window alongside Jim. “It’s never like this back home. There, it’s all palm trees, sunshine, and ice cream on the beach. That’s what I’m used to, but somehow, this seems more…” she paused, trying to think of the right word. “ _Classic_ , like how the holiday season is described in books. I reckon I’m seeing it as Charles Dickens did.”

“Read a lot of Dickens, have you?”

“Oh yes,” the girl answered enthusiastically. “I’m in an accelerated studies program that allows me to take English courses at the high school level. We spent the fall term examining the works of Charles Dickens. In spring, we’ll be tackling Shakespeare. I can’t wait.”

The consulting criminal smiled. “Ah, the Bard. I do fancy a bit of Shakespearean flair every now and then. You’re going to love it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

The two of them continued gazing out the window in silence for a few moments, and Jim couldn’t help but notice the wistful longing in Penelope’s eyes. It was as if something was calling to her from beyond the glass.   

“Tell me, dear, have you ever romped in weather like this? Built snowmen or sledded? Done anything of the sort?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“I bet you’ve always wanted to. Dreamt of it since you were a little lass. Am I right?” Moriarty phrased the statement as a question, but he already knew his deduction was correct.

“I…I guess so,” she stammered, growing unexpectedly shy. “But it’s a silly notion.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because playing in the snow is for kids,” Penny declared. “I’m way too old. I’ll be a teenager in six months.”

It was all the Irishman could do to suppress a laugh. “Too old at age twelve? Darling, you don’t know the meaning of the word. Enjoy your childhood while you’ve got it,” he implored. “Or at least learn to capitalize on an opportunity when one presents itself.”

The girl’s face scrunched up in confusion. “How do you mean?”

“Well, who knows when you’ll next see snow again? It may not be for a very long time,” he pointed out. “A wise individual would seize the occasion.”

She considered his advice, turning it over in a mind that was at once both childlike and mature.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” the genius spoke. “If it wasn’t such a health risk, I’d be out there right now, mercilessly pummeling your Uncle Seb with snowballs.”

Penelope grinned. “That _does_ sound like fun. And a little bit mean, but mostly fun.”

“A girl after my own heart,” he remarked with a chuckle. “So why not do it? Go outside and raise some hell. Let me live vicariously through you for a few fleeting moments.”

“Mum did make me pack a bunch of cold weather clothes for the trip…”

“Perfect. You’ve already got what you need.”

“I do.” She took one last glimpse at the winter wonderland before returning her attention to Jim. “Okay, I will. I just need a minute to suit up.”

“Remember to wear a scarf!” he called out as she scampered off to her guest room.

Soon, Paige entered with a curious expression on her face. “Where was Penny going in such a hurry? She almost ran into me on the way upstairs.”

“She’s putting on her winter clothes so she can play outside.”

The woman smiled. “Really? That’s delightful. She’s never experienced snow before.” Paige paused, pondering the subject. “Come to think of it, neither have I.”

“You’ve never vacationed in a cooler climate?” Moriarty was rather surprised by her admission.

“Severin and I have always stuck to tropical destinations,” she informed. “I’ve often wanted to take an Alaskan cruise, though. Go whale-watching and see glaciers— the whole nine yards.”

“You should definitely check out Alaska if you can. The aurora borealis is breathtaking.”

“You’ve been? Now I’m jealous,” she teased.

“You’ll get there eventually. You seem like the determined type.”

Suddenly, Seb and Sev came into view from the window. They continued their diligent quest to clear the snow.

“Look at them out there,” Paige said. “They’re going to be at it all day at this rate.”

“I know. The minute they’re tired enough to come inside, I’m phoning a plow service. Bollocks this ‘we’ll do it ourselves’ nonsense. A professional is the only— oww!” he gasped, registering a sharp kick from within.

“Are you okay?” the woman asked.

“I’m fine. The babies have decided to practice their daily calisthenics routine. Put your hand on my belly and feel them.”

She did, grinning at the movement that beat back against her touch.

“You’ve got some feisty kiddos, Jim.”

“Oh, indeed. They’re going to be amaaaazing. Scratch that— they already are,” he asserted with pride. “I’m so eager to meet them, especially on a day like this.”     

“What’s special about today?”

“It’s the aftermath of a blizzard,” he answered. “I look at the tundra that is our yard, and I imagine what it’ll be like to play with Essie and Eddie in the snow. First, I’ll make sure they’re completely bundled from head to toe— no frostbite for my angels. Then, I’ll take their tiny gloved hands into mine and lead them outside,” the mastermind lovingly described. “Their eyes will go wide and their mouths will upturn into smiles. They might even giggle and skip with glee,” he continued. “I’ll show them how to build a snowman. We’ll fashion it to look like Seb, and maybe, if there’s time, we’ll create representations for each of us— Daddy, Papa, and two little darlings, together as a family of snowpersons. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”           

“It does,” Paige affirmed. “You paint an absolutely marvelous picture. One question, though.”

“Yes?”

“Where’s Sebastian during all this?”

Moriarty smiled impishly. “He’ll be in the house, preparing hot chocolate and keeping the fireplace stoked.”

“How thoughtful,” she noted. “I hope it really happens that way.”

“Me too.”

Paige found herself wondering something else. “When you were a boy, did you have many wintertime adventures?”

He hesitated, his smile fading at the inquiry. “I did…and then I didn’t.”

“Hmm? I don’t follow.”

The consulting criminal sighed. How honest should he be? He’d only met the woman recently. Then again, she was Seb’s family, which in turn, made her his family as well. Even so, did he dare reveal certain truths?

“Jim?” she prodded, noticing the change in his mood.

“When I was very young, my mum and I used to play in the snow. After she passed, I stopped. It made me too sad,” he confessed. “It wasn’t until I met Sebastian that I was enticed to try it again.”

“He’s been good for you,” she surmised.

“More so than I ever thought possible.”

“I understand. Sev came into my life at a pretty dark time, too.”

“Did he?”   

“Yeah. Guess the Morans have a knack for that.” 

Jim and Paige’s conversation was unceremoniously interrupted by a 5 ft. tall, auburn-haired blur whizzing past them.

SLAM.

The front door shut with a racket as Penelope rushed out. 

“So much for ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye.’ I swear she didn’t used to be this rude. I dread what her teenage years will bring.”

“I don’t think you need to worry,” the Irishman reassured. “She’s a clever one.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Those brains in the body of a reckless adolescent— it’s a terrifying combination.”     

“Perhaps, but I’m sure you’ll provide her with proper guidance. That ought to count for something.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” she said, offering a warm smile. “Being a parent isn’t easy. There’s a lot of learning as you go along.”

“I’ve heard that from a few of the men in my pregnancy support group. Sometimes it’s daunting— the uncertainty of it all. I’m simultaneously thrilled and petrified at the prospect.”

“I’d be concerned if you weren’t. It’s scary,” Paige stated, “but we do the best we can, and roll with life’s punches as they come our way.”

 _Life’s punches._ He’d endured enough of those throughout the years. God willing, he would protect his children from ever having to know the pain and suffering this world could wreak.

Speaking of punches, the two were swiftly distracted by what they spied out the window. Sebastian was in the midst of shoveling when he was abruptly walloped with a snowball from behind.

Mischief flickered in the depths of Jim’s dark eyes as he immediately knew that Penny had taken his advice to heart. It was just a bit of harmless fun, right?

 

 

 

_Fuck, this is taking forever. Why did I let Sev talk me into cleaning up after a blizzard? What the hell does he know about snow removal? He’s lived on a bloody beach for well over a decade._

THWACK.

The sniper suddenly felt an ice cold sensation hit him squarely in the back. With narrowed eyes and flaring nostrils, he rapidly spun to face the source of the assault. His angry expression transformed into one of bewilderment as he saw that it was Penelope standing there.  

“Penny? Did you just hurl a snowball at me?”

She nervously nodded, scared to death by the murderous glare he’d flashed upon first turning around. “Uncle Jim convinced me to come out and play.”

 _Jim. Of course._ Naturally, the genius would instigate something like this. He knew full well that in his current condition, Seb wouldn’t dare seek revenge.

The younger Moran brother waved his niece nearer, an idea coming to mind. He might not be able to wage a snowball war with his mate, but he could at least give Penelope an education on the subject. 

“Please don’t be mad at me,” she beseeched. “I was only goofing around.”

“Me, mad? Nah.”

“But your face…you looked like you wanted to kill someone.”

“Oh, that. You shouldn’t take it personally. It was instinct kicking in,” he explained. “It’s my duty to serve and protect Uncle Jim, especially now that he’s got my babies in his tummy.”

“Uncle Seb, you can just use the word ‘pregnant.’ I know how these things work. You don’t have to phrase it like you’re speaking to a kindergartner.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit rusty when it comes to talking to kids.” He quickly attempted to steer the conversation towards his initially conceived direction. “That was a decent hit you landed with the snowball. I can show you how to improve it, though.”

“Yeah?” She was intrigued.

The assassin grinned. “Yeah.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well, for starters, it’s important to pack a snowball as tight as possible. Leave it too loose, and it loses momentum during flight. It also yields a softer impact.”

Seb bent down, gathering snow into a ball for demonstration purposes. He left it loosely packed, and then handed it to her. “Hold on to that for now.”

“Okay.”

The blonde began forming a second snowball, this time making sure it was nice and firm. He surreptitiously glanced over at his brother. Severin was salting the area Seb had shoveled, his back turned, with earbuds plugged in as he listened to music.

“Dad’s not paying attention,” Penny remarked.

“All the better to surprise him.”

“Surprise him? How—” she stopped in mid-sentence, his meaning dawning on her. “Ohhh.”

Sebastian winked at the girl and proceeded to roll more snowballs. He finally ceased his efforts when he had an even dozen.

“After firmness, the second most essential factor is your throw. This aspect is easier to master if you’ve played sports. However, with practice, proficiency is achievable by non-athletes as well.”

“Sure, that makes sense.”

“You nailed a decent hit to my back,” he stated. “I’m going to guess you’ve probably participated in a fair amount of softball?”

“When I was little, yeah. I wasn’t very good at it,” she lamented. “But go on.”

“Once you have a well-packed ball, you’ll want to focus on your target— concentrate as if they’ve got an invisible bullseye painted on.”

She nodded affirmatively. “Right.”

The sniper set his sights on Sev, and Penny smirked. Her oblivious father was about to receive a throttling.

“Allow me to properly highlight the artistry involved in this. Pass me the loosely packed snowball.”

She did.

“Watch closely.”

Seb wound his arm back, chucking the chilly sphere straight at Severin. It flew through the air, breaking up slightly before making contact.

“Hey!” the elder Moran shouted, turning to see what was going on.

Penelope laughed while Sebastian sported a sharky grin across his face.

“Note how that particular snowball lost some of its cohesion on the way to its target. Now observe what happens when I launch the tightly-packed versions.” 

“Seb? Penny? What are you doing?”

THWACK.

“What the—”

SPLAT.

“Excuse me—”

THWACK.

The barrage of snowballs just kept coming. Seb’s aim found Severin no matter what direction he maneuvered in. His expert precision was almost mesmerizing.

Severin dropped to the ground, crawling behind a tall snowbank for cover.

“Perhaps we’ve exhausted your father,” the former colonel suggested.

“Maybe,” she agreed. “How did you get so good at this?”

“Years of practice, my dear.”

A moment of silence passed, where all that could be heard was the wind. It was an eerie calm, the kind that makes the hairs stand up on the back of one’s neck.

“Uncle Seb, look out!” Penny suddenly yelled.

The older Moran sibling had popped up from his hiding spot and thrown a snowball the assassin’s way. He was able to dodge the initial attack, but soon the balls were coming faster than he could evade. To Severin’s credit, the ambush was centered exclusively on Sebastian— his daughter remained untouched.

Back and forth they went, pummeling each other from both sides. It was an all-out war and neither wanted to concede defeat.

“Getting tired yet, Sev?” the sniper asked.

“Never.”

“Nor I.”

But that was a lie. The men were breathless and freezing, their bodies sore from the nonstop stream of icy blows. Pure adrenaline fueled them now, along with a heaping dose of misplaced machismo.

Penelope wasn’t sure what to do. The situation was amusing, yes, but also decidedly strange. She’d _never_ seen her father behave like this. He was the type who shied away from shenanigans and tomfoolery. Yet here he was, indulging in a thoroughly childish battle against his younger brother.

And then she heard a whistle. All of them did, for that matter. It was loud enough to halt the wrangling Morans.  

“Yoooo-hoooo, boys.” Jim was standing on the porch, commanding their attention as only he could. “While I appreciate the entertainment you’ve provided, I believe it’s time to call it quits and come inside. Paige is brewing a pot of tea— if you hurry, you might be able to change out of those cold, snow-covered clothes before it’s finished steeping.”  

Sebastian and Severin exchanged a regretful glance, embarrassed that they’d let themselves get so out of hand. They were grown men with families and careers— certainly above such juvenile antics.

They were headed up the front steps when Seb stopped. “Wait,” he said, turning to his sibling. “Sev…I’m sorry I got carried away.”

“Me too.”

“No hard feelings, then?”

“Not of the emotional variety, but physically, I may be a wee bit bruised.”

“Same here.”

The sniper leaned in and gave Severin a brief, but awkward, hug.

Moriarty watched on, rolling his eyes. “Less sentiment, more walking. It’s freezing out here and I’d like to go inside.”

At that, everyone returned to the house. There would be no more fighting that day, with snowballs or otherwise. Instead, there’d be toasty fireplaces and warm cuppas for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishing everyone a happy New Year! I'd like to thank you all for your readership and patience. It is appreciated.


	86. The Last Supper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the family reunion comes to a close, new developments arise elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

A week had passed since Severin and company arrived in London to spend the holidays with Jim and Seb. Christmas was a delight, while New Year’s was among the mildest the men had experienced in ages. The consulting criminal was too pregnant to party, and ended up falling asleep on the couch shortly after the clock struck midnight. Even so, a good time was had.

Now it was their last day together. No one wanted to make it a sad affair, particularly Jim. Bearing that in mind, he brainstormed the perfect plan: he would finally take everyone out to dinner at _‘Le Gavroche.’_ Moriarty merely needed to breech their online database to secure the necessary reservations, and voila, they’d be set.    

CLICK.

He closed his laptop. It was done.

Sebastian entered the living room at just the right time.

“Tiiiiiiger,” Jim drawled, “guess what?” He gazed at his mate with big, beaming eyes.

“I’ve no idea, but whatever it is, you certainly seem pleased. Should I be afraid?”

“Oh, heavens no. This is something wonderful.”

“Then by all means, do tell.”

The genius grinned. “Wellllll…remember the restaurant I wanted to take us to, but the blizzard happened and we couldn’t go?”

“Some French place, yeah.”

“We’re finally going there tonight. It will be like a ‘last supper.’”

“Great. I’ll let the rest of the family know.”

 _Family._ The word sent Jim’s heart aflutter. This week had granted him his childhood dream of being surrounded by loved ones. But his expression swiftly dropped as he thought about having to say goodbye.

Seb sat down next to the mastermind. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“You know,” he somberly whispered.

The sniper _did_ know, all too well. It was obvious he was upset about their guests’ impending departure.

“After we’ve finished up at the airport tomorrow, why don’t we spend the day together?” Sebastian suggested. “We could have lunch, do a bit of shopping, and maybe take in a movie. When we get back home, I’ll even make hot chocolate and draw us a bubble bath. How’s that sound?”

“I have a meeting tomorrow night.”

“Meeting?” he asked in confusion. _Jim’s not taking meetings these days, he’s on paternity leave._

“It’s my MOPS group. First session of the new year.”

“Ohhh, right. Duh. I’m such a dope sometimes.”

“Yes, but you’re _my_ dope. Don’t ever forget it.” The Irishman snuggled as close to Moran as possible without actually sitting in his lap.

“I never could.” Seb placed a protective arm around Jim. It felt good to shield him; to be a living barrier guarding his omega from harm.

Moriarty yawned sleepily, his head resting against the blonde’s chest. “So safe with you, Sebby,” he murmured.

“Always, Magpie.”

The couple remained on the couch for a long while, enjoying the comfort of being together. There was something serene about those simple moments when they could bask in the love and warmth found within each other’s embrace.

As peaceful as it was inside Jim and Sebastian’s private bubble, developments were unfolding elsewhere. If they’d had their phones turned on, they would’ve seen that they were simultaneously texted by pathologist Molly Hooper regarding a sample they’d submitted to her.

In the aftermath of the duo’s Christmas party confrontation with Annie, they saved the hair Moran had ripped from the woman’s scalp, sending it to Ms. Hooper for professional analysis. She initially refused them, but was persuaded when told that it likely contained the DNA of the person who’d killed her cousin’s best friend. The results were now in, but Jim and Seb hadn’t a clue.

*********

Dinner was only an hour away and the mastermind still hadn’t settled on what to wear. He’d tried on three different outfits and hated them all. Sebastian exercised the patience of a saint, but found that it was getting harder to keep the other Morans happy while they waited.

“Come on, Uncle Jim,” Penelope urged from the opposite side of the closed bedroom door. “Put on anything so we can go already.”

“I’m sure you look fine,” Paige chimed in, attempting to cajole him through positive means.

The sniper sighed. “I’m going in. Wish me luck.” Nods were exchanged among Seb and his family, and he stepped inside.

“Jimmy?” he beckoned, not seeing him at first. Then he ventured a bit further and discovered a decidedly sad sight. Moriarty was on the floor of his walk-in closet, half-dressed and teary-eyed, with clothes strewn around him.

Seb immediately rushed to his side, helping him stand. Their gazes locked, and Moran was stricken by how utterly defeated Jim appeared. He instinctively enveloped him in a hug.

“I’m hideous, Seb. An absolute fright.” The consulting criminal paused, backing up slightly so that he could admire his mate. “You’re as handsome as ever, though. So suave in a suit.”

“Thank you, hon. You look good, too. I’ll have none of this ‘hideous’ talk.”

“It’s the truth. My reflection is unforgiving.”

“Bollocks whatever you think you saw in the mirror. When I look at you, I see a dashing and debonair man who I’m privileged to say is my husband. Would you sooner believe me or a panel of glass?”

The genius was silent for a beat, thoroughly conflicted. “I…well…oh, Tiger. I don’t know what I’m doing. I think I’m losing my mind.”

Sebastian held his distraught omega once more, trying his best to calm him. “Hush now, sweetheart. You’re just extremely hormonal and stressed out. It’s nothing we can’t manage.” He rubbed the smaller man’s back soothingly as he spoke. “Let’s get you properly dressed, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jim whispered. “Okay.”

And so the former colonel valiantly assisted Moriarty into a stylish ensemble that included a cozy cardigan sweater. The choice of wardrobe was no accident— he loved it when the Irishman wore sweaters.

“You really think I look all right in this?”

“No,” he answered. “I think you look sexy as hell in it.”

Jim smiled. Seb was like sunshine, always there to chase his dark clouds away.

Moran grasped him by the hand. “Come. Our dinner date awaits.”

Without another word, the two proceeded onward, poised for what was sure to be an auspicious evening. This wasn’t merely a meal they were attending. No, it was an event meant to bookend a reunion that all of them would look back upon fondly. In essence, it was history in the making.

*********

 _‘Le Gavroche’_ was certainly living up to the image Jim had painted for his guests. The illustrious eatery presented a chic and sophisticated atmosphere, along with excellent service and a varied menu that offered something for everyone.

“This has got to be the richest meal I’ve feasted on in years,” Severin remarked. “I can feel my cholesterol levels rising as we speak. Needless to say, I love it.”

“Yes, it’s impressive,” Paige agreed. “I may try to recreate a few of these dishes at home.”

“Do you and Uncle Seb eat here often?” Penelope wondered aloud between forkfuls of decadent cheese soufflé.

“No, dear. This isn’t exactly Seb’s kind of place. But I’ve conducted business meetings here on numerous occasions.”

“Cool,” the preteen replied. “The food’s way better than I expected.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it— all of you. I so hoped you would,” he said with a gentle smile.

“I think a lot of things have turned out better than expected this entire week,” Paige interjected, branching off from her daughter’s comment. “Please don’t take offense to this, but you’re nothing like what I assumed you’d be.”

“Oh? How’s that?”

“Well, you hear the name ‘James Moriarty,’ and you envision a diabolical mastermind. Someone who’s cold, calculating, and cruel,” she plainly stated. “That’s what I was expecting, but you’re none of those things. I’ve never been so mistaken about a person in my life.”

He stared at her for a few seconds, contemplating how to respond. “You weren’t wrong to believe that about me.”

She tilted her head, confused. “But—”

“No ‘buts.’ I’ve done terrible things. Hurt people in ways you couldn’t begin to imagine.”

“Jim—” the assassin interrupted.

“Let me finish, Sebastian. Perhaps I shouldn’t be saying this in front of Penny, but in the interest of transparency, I am.” He returned his attention to Paige. “I was vicious and manipulative, and deeply selfish. You didn’t meet _that_ Jim, thank god.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table at Moriarty’s admission. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he’d erred in his openness. Maybe some truths were not meant to be shared.

Of the group, Penelope was the one to finally speak. “That doesn’t sound like the man you are now, Uncle Jim.”

“Thank you, darling. I’ve made a conscious effort to work on myself these past several months. I attribute it in large part to my children.”

“Really? They’re not even born yet.”

“That’s the point, you see. I came to realize that life was no longer centered exclusively on me. _They_ were more important. As such, I needed to rise to the occasion and become the kind of person who would be a good parent to them. I’ve been trying so hard to get it right before they arrive.” The genius paused, noticing that everyone at the table was focused on him. He smiled nervously, adding, “I don’t claim to be anywhere near ideal, but I’d like to think I’ve improved my behavior quite a lot.”

Seb reached over to squeeze his spouse’s hand. “You have, Jimmy. I’ve observed it every step of the way.”  

“It’s a commendable gesture,” Severin asserted. “If more people attempted to better themselves for the sake of their children, the world might be a brighter place.”

Paige nodded in accord. “I’ve only known you for a week, but I can say with some confidence that this version of ‘Jim’ is going to make a wonderful mother.”

The consulting criminal flushed at the compliment. He was incredibly self-assured about some things, but still had worries regarding his prospects as a parent.

“Do you truly mean it?” he asked hopefully. 

“I do.”

“Thank you.”

Soon, the group was visited by their maître d.’ Boxes were brought to package up leftovers and dessert was ordered all around. Closing out the proceedings with crème brûlée was a must.

Paige and Penelope excused themselves to the restroom while the men stayed behind, waiting for the final course to be served.      

“Do you mind if I check my email?” Severin inquired. “I’m expecting a correspondence from a colleague, but didn’t want to seem rude by pulling out my phone during the meal. This feels like an acceptable intermission.”

“Go ahead,” Jim said. “We won’t be offended,”

“That reminds me,” the younger Moran brother noted, “I don’t think I’ve had my mobile turned on today.” 

Moriarty smiled. “Me either. Everyone I wanted to talk to was already right in front of me.”  

“I ought to take a quick peek in case there are any business matters that require tending to.”

“My sweet Sebby, dealing with work and taking care of me at the same time. I don’t know how you do it.” The Irishman gazed adoringly at his amazing mate. If Sev wasn’t present, he’d have started playing footsie with him then and there. 

It only took a moment for Seb’s phone to boot up. When he went to review the day’s messages, his breathing hitched as he read a text from Molly Hooper.

_MH_

_Got the results back on the sample you provided. I’d prefer to discuss the findings in person. Let’s pick a place to meet._

 

This was huge. With the DNA analysis complete, they could finally learn who Annie really was, or at least glean enough to narrow it down.

He was about to reply, when something occurred to him that made his heart sink: the timestamp on the message indicated it was sent hours earlier. Seven hours ago, to be precise.

 _Seven bloody hours. So much time wasted._ If they’d had their devices powered on, they would’ve seen the text and then arranged to meet with Molly that very afternoon. Now it was getting to be late in the evening, and if they were to leave for a rendezvous, it would almost certainly raise suspicion from their guests. They’d have to postpone any such assembly until the following day.   

“Jim, take a look at this.” He slipped his phone to Moriarty, trying to appear cool and collected.

The mastermind indulged his partner’s request, and within seconds, his eyes widened like saucers.

Though the couple dared not speak a word, a whirlwind of thoughts raced through their heads. They’d assumed that tonight would be noteworthy— oh, how adorably naïve. This was child’s play compared to what tomorrow would bring.         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been wondering if I should continue adding chapters to this story as a single work, or if I should consider breaking it up into a series of sections. I'd prefer to keep it as one work, but I'm concerned that the length of the story might discourage people from reading it.


	87. Au Revoir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Morans depart. Also, Jim and Sebastian prepare for a meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is some reference to bigotry in this chapter. Nothing extreme, but it's there. 
> 
> ****************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

It was the morning of the Moran family’s departure and emotions were running high amongst the group. At breakfast, Paige and Penelope teared up. Jim wanted to as well, but somehow managed to rein himself in before the waterworks could start. As for Sebastian and Severin, the brothers remained stoic in the face of separation.

It was decided that they’d travel to the airport in two cars— one for Sev and his brood, and another for London’s most dangerous men. This would give the couple time to discuss what their game plan was for the day. In light of Molly’s text, some scheduling changes needed to be made.  

“I didn’t sleep last night, Tiger. Not a wink. Couldn’t stop thinking about everything. I’m sad, happy, scared, and excited all at once. It’s overwhelming.”

“I know, hon. It’s a lot to deal with, but we’ll handle it together. No worries.” It was important that Seb stress this point to his mate. At around 2 a.m., he’d rolled over to find an empty bed— not such an unusual occurrence these days, since Jim had been making more frequent trips to the bathroom at odd hours. But when he hadn’t returned nearly twenty minutes later, the blonde went searching for him. He eventually discovered Moriarty pacing the halls, anxious and achy. He quickly brought him back to their room, making him promise to stay put until sunrise. Jim obliged, but even so, Moran could tell that the man was still very much on edge.

“I’m never turning my phone off again,” the mastermind vowed. “No more missed messages. Not ever.” He paused, diverging into their itinerary. “Once we’ve finished at the airport, we’re heading straight to _Starbucks_.”

“I can’t believe that’s where Molly wants us to meet. Of all the places, it just seems so…”

“Plebeian?”

“I was thinking ‘impersonal,’ but yeah, that too.” 

The pathologist was adamant they gather at a public spot. She didn’t trust the duo in the slightest, so it made sense. However, they could’ve easily come up with a better location than that.

“We’ll keep the proceedings brief. No dawdling.”

Seb nodded. He didn’t wish to spend a moment longer than necessary there.

“Afterward, we can enjoy some quality time. Then tonight, I have my MOPS meeting. I’m rather looking forward to those starting back up.”

Jim really had begun to think of his fellow group participants as friends, albeit to varying degrees. A year ago, it would’ve seemed unfathomable that he’d willingly associate with ordinary individuals, but the camaraderie he’d found among them was an unexpected breath of fresh air.

“I wonder how Ian’s doing?” the sniper questioned. He hadn’t spoken to the youngest MOPS member since the night of the Christmas party. “You think he’s happy with the apartment we moved him into?”

“I imagine so. What’s not to like? It’s got plenty of amenities and is situated in a posh part of the city.”

“You haven’t actually spoken to him, though?”

“No, the family reunion kept me fairly distracted. We just exchanged a few text messages and that was it.”

“Ah, okay. I hope he had a decent Christmas.”

“Me too.”

Both of them knew how bleak it could be to spend holidays alone— it’s what they’d often done before finding each other.

“Seb?”

“Yes?”

“Do you suppose we should’ve invited Ian over for Christmas?”

“It’s a nice idea, but he wouldn’t have been able to make it with the blizzard going on.”

“True,” Jim admitted. “Sometimes, though, it’s the mere invitation that counts. Knowing that another person cares enough to extend an offer. Being able to attend is secondary to the gesture in and of itself.”    

“Hmm. I hadn’t thought of it like that.” Perhaps they’d erred in omitting the teen from their plans.

“I’ll see how he’s doing this evening.”

“Good idea.”

At that, the conversation died down as the duo drove the rest of the way in contented silence.

*********

The airport was every bit as nightmarish as anticipated. People were jam-packed throughout the facility, and the lines to get past customs and security proved especially grueling.

All the walking around did Jim no favors. He’d opted not to bring either of his wheelchairs along for the trip, insisting they’d be difficult to navigate through a crowd. He changed his mind, however, early in the trek and attempted to get wheelchair assistance on site. To the consulting criminal’s extreme displeasure, they denied his request on the grounds of having a 48-hour notification policy. They would only issue mobility devices to those who made arrangements at least two days in advance.

Needless to say, the whole group was put off by the airport’s draconian rule. Severin tried to use his clout as a doctor to help Jim out, claiming he authorized the use of a chair, but the man in charge of disability services wouldn’t relent without proof that he was, in fact, Moriarty’s physician. 

Now they were at an impasse, and no one was angrier than Seb.

“How fucking dare you treat him like this?” the assassin spat. “He has serious medical issues and you’re prepared to just sit back and let him suffer. It’s fucking disgraceful.”

“Sir, I don’t make the policies, I simply enforce them. Furthermore, I ask that you please refrain from using vulgar language or I’ll be compelled to call security.”

The man’s dismissive reply only added fuel to Sebastian’s fire. He flashed him a downright murderous glare before continuing on. “Go ahead and phone them. I’d love to have you and this whole establishment sued for discrimination.”

“Discrimination? What are you implying, sir?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me. I know how this goes. If my spouse were a woman, you’d have no problem bending the rules and rustling up a wheelchair. A pregnant lady is fine, but god forbid a male omega needs help.”

The administrator scowled. “If your partner is in such poor shape, perhaps you ought not to have brought him in the first place.”  

“That’s your rebuttal?” Seb scoffed, noting that the officious bastard didn’t even try to deny the accusation of bigotry. “For your information, he’s here because we’re seeing off family. Maybe that doesn’t mean much to you, but anyone with a shred of decency should be able to comprehend it.”

“There’s nothing I can do. Next time, provide proper notice.”

“Listen, you judgmental son of a bitch—”

“Stop,” Jim said, interrupting his mate’s impending tirade. “This is taking too long, and I refuse to be the reason why our guests miss their flight. Let’s just go.”

“No. This isn’t right and you know it.”

Moriarty took a deep breath and then pulled the former colonel aside so that they were out of the administrator’s earshot.

“Seb, I’m furious about this. Believe me, I am. But I don’t have the luxury of allowing myself to get truly upset. If I do, my blood pressure will spike, and that’s a dangerous thing. It isn’t worth risking our children’s lives on account of this arsehole,” he declared. “Rest assured, I memorized his name from the tag on his shirt. ‘Ferdinand’ is fairly unique, so I doubt there are too many others working here with that moniker. I intend to place a few calls and have him dealt with later. For now, though, it’s important your brother not miss his flight.”

The blonde sighed. “When did you become so practical and wise?”

“Around the same time my husband decided to chuck all that and operate on impulsive alpha instincts.”

“I won’t apologize for making you my top priority,” Seb stated, “but I’ll admit, responding with a kneejerk reaction probably won’t solve anything.”

“No, it will only get you thrown out of the airport, and we most certainly can’t have that. Today’s itinerary is too vital. So cool your jets and we’ll proceed on our way. Understand?”

“Aye,” he agreed. “One question, though.”

“What?”

“Instead of ‘placing a few calls’ to deal with that wanker over there, why not let me have a crack at him? It’s been ages since I’ve bagged a bigot.”

The mastermind grinned gleefully. “By all means, Tiger, go wild.”

Satisfied with the compromise, Sebastian signaled his family to continue their pilgrimage to the boarding gate. He would follow behind in order to aid Jim as best he could. If he needed to carry him the rest of the way, so be it. There was no limit to his devotion to the Irishman. He was his love, his light, his dark king for all time.

 

 

At last, the couple arrived at the gate. It’d taken them a little longer than their guests, but the salient point was that they made it there before takeoff and could still say goodbye.

Penelope approached the genius, giving him a great big hug. “Thank you for everything, Uncle Jim. This week went by way too fast.”

“It sure did, darling. Now you be good for your parents. Keep studying, keep baking, and when I see you again, expect that I’ll quiz you on your Shakespeare.”

She smiled. “We’ll see each other again?”

“Of course we will. I have every intention to stay in touch.”

“Good, I’d like that.” The girl paused, setting her sights on Seb. “And thank you for the lesson on snowballs. Maybe we can make more someday?”

“You bet,” he warmly replied.

Next, Paige came up to the consulting criminal, also bestowing a hug. “It was a delight to meet you, Jim. You absolutely _must_ send us pictures when the babies are born.” 

“Will do. I plan to have Seb take scads of photos. Possibly even install a darkroom in our home, just for that express purpose.”

The sniper arched a brow. “Oh really?” This was news to him.

“Yes, really.”

“Sebastian,” the woman spoke, “it was nice to meet you, too. I’d heard tales through the years from Sev— now I have a face to put to the name.”

“And what a handsome face it is,” Moriarty quipped. 

The group’s final farewell was delivered by Severin. Unlike his wife and daughter, he approached Seb first, rather than Jim.

“It’s been wonderful catching up, brother. I wholeheartedly agree with Penny— this week went by too soon. It wasn’t nearly long enough to make up for the years we spent apart.”

“Perhaps not, but it’s a start.”

In an uncharacteristic display of affection, Severin gave his sibling a quick hug and a pat on the back. “Take care of yourself, and your mate. If you ever need any parenting advice, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I’m sure I’ll be texting you often, then,” the sniper said with a wink. 

Last call for boarding was announced and the Morans had to go. It was a bittersweet moment, leaving everyone a bit forlorn, but hopeful of the future. This would not be the end— far from it. Though separated by distance, there were more holidays, vacations, and visits on the horizon.

*********

The time had come for Jim and Sebastian to meet with Molly. It was all fine and good, except for the fact that Moriarty was in the midst of a mini-meltdown. He’d put on a brave face at the airport, but the instant Severin and company got on their plane, the tears simply wouldn’t stop.

“God, what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I pull it together? This is pathetic.”

“You’ve had an emotional morning. You’ll calm down eventually.”

“Eventually?!” he repeated with alarm. “I don’t have time for ‘eventually!’ We’re supposed to meet Molly right fucking now, and I’m a mess.” He glimpsed himself in the sun visor mirror and cringed. “Look how red my eyes are. She’ll know I was crying. I can’t let her see me like this.”

“Open the glovebox,” Seb instructed.

“Why?”

“Just do it. Trust me, you’ll be pleased.”

The mastermind begrudgingly complied. When the compartment popped open, he saw that there was a pair of sunglasses inside. Not just any sunglasses— these were Sebastian’s favorite aviator shades.    

“Wear those, and she’ll never suspect a thing. You’ll also look quite cool.”

Jim put them on, his mouth upturning into a sly smile as he did so. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Moran began, pulling into the _Starbucks_ parking lot and settling on a spot, “that I need to kiss you.” He powered off the engine and leaned over, seizing his passenger’s lips.

Moriarty responded enthusiastically, tugging the other man closer while deepening their kiss. Seb tasted like spearmint Altoids mixed with pure delight, and he wanted _more._

Before the sniper knew it, he and his mate were making out rather passionately, right there in the front seat of the car. He understood Jim’s vigor— they hadn’t engaged in intimate relations the entire time his family stayed at the house. It was the longest they’d gone without making love since Moriarty had figured out how to keep his blood pressure steady during the act.

“Get a room!” someone catcalled as they walked by. It was enough to bring the men back to their senses.

“Well, that was…spirited,” the genius remarked.

“Indeed.”

“Shall we go in?”

“Yes, that’s a sound idea.”

Sebastian carefully assisted Jim out of the vehicle and escorted him inside the coffee shop. The place was moderately busy— not packed, but not at a lull, either.

“Ooh,” Moriarty exclaimed, “they have hazelnut hot chocolate!” He viewed the dessert case and was positively gobsmacked. “Chocolate chip cheesecake muffins...even better.”

And then Seb looked away and saw her. Or rather, saw _them._

He spied Molly at a table, all right. And she was sitting alongside Irene Adler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	88. Truths & Declarations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian learn some surprising truths during a meeting with Molly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Oh no,” Seb muttered under his breath.

“What?” Jim asked in confusion. “Since when don’t you like muffins?”

“It’s not the muffins. Look over there,” he urged, motioning towards the table where Molly and Irene sat.

All color drained from Moriarty’s face when he saw the couple. They were sipping cappuccinos while chatting and laughing, thick as thieves.

“What’s _she_ doing here?” the mastermind hissed.

“Good question. Let’s find out.” 

“Wait— I want hot chocolate and a muffin first.”

“I thought we were keeping this brief? ‘No dawdling,’ remember?”

“Yes, I remember. But if you expect me to deal with the both of them, then I demand compensation.”

The sniper rolled his eyes. “Fine.” Sometimes it was easier to placate him than to argue.

Fortunately, there wasn’t much of a line. Moriarty got his sweet treats quickly and they were able to proceed. The ladies took notice, holding their gaze as they approached. 

“So glad you could join us,” Irene greeted. “Have a seat.”

The duo obliged, still dumbfounded by Adler’s presence.

“Jim,” she continued, “it’s nice to see you’ve upgraded to a wardrobe that fits. Also, I like the shades.”

“Thanks. You really ought to invest in a pair. They’d do wonders to hide those pesky crow’s feet.”

“Is that what yours are for, dear?”

Though obscured by the sunglasses he wore, Jim glared harshly at the dominatrix. He was growing sick of her already and they’d only just begun.

“Tell me, Irene, why exactly are you here? I was under the impression that this was to be a meeting with Molly, not her and anyone else who felt like tagging along.”

“Well, why is it you and Sebastian seem to go everywhere together, hmm?”

“He’s my second-in-command and bodyguard.”

“I operate in a similar capacity. Consider me her backup. I’m here to make damn sure nothing befalls this extraordinary woman.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” the consulting criminal said with a laugh. “Where was this swell of devotion when we met in Monte Carlo? You know, the night you propositioned my husband for sex.”

Sebastian flashed his mate a look of utter mortification. Why did Jim always seek to stir up trouble? Why did he thrive on drama?

To both men’s surprise, Molly didn’t bat an eye at the revelation.

“You think you can hurt me by disclosing the news that my partner was unfaithful,” the pathologist spoke, “but you’re mistaken. Irene and I had a row shortly before she left for Monaco. We were broken up for about a week, and when we reconciled, she told me what happened. There are no secrets between us.”

“Aww, isn’t that sweet?” Moriarty mocked.

“Jealous?” she challenged.

“Of the two of you? Hardly.”

“Methinks thou doth protest too much.”

“Molly, darling, I strongly recommend you shut your mouth. Right. Fucking. Now.”

“Or what?” Adler interjected. “She’s got information that’s of value to you. Harm her and you’ll never get what you want.”

The Irishman heaved a heavy sigh and started rapping his fingers anxiously atop the table. Moran recognized his partner’s idiosyncrasies as signs of mounting agitation. He knew he needed to intervene.

“Enough chit-chat,” Seb decreed. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

“Yes,” Molly agreed, “I’d prefer to get on with it, too.”

“My apologies, love,” the other woman spoke, delicately brushing her fingertips across her girlfriend’s hand. “Jim’s just so much fun to play with,” she cooed.

From beneath the table, Moriarty’s foot made contact with Irene’s shin, administering a swift kick.

“Oww!” she exclaimed. “You bloody loon!”

Sebastian was alarmed at the direction the meeting was taking. If ever there was a time to assert his authority, it was now. 

“Hey!” he yelled, commanding their attention. “Cut this shite out, both of you. I’ll tolerate no more snarky remarks and no more physical attacks. We’re all going to sit here and behave like civilized persons. Everybody got that?”

“Yes, Tiger.” The genius abided Seb’s orders without complaint. It wasn’t often that Moran broke rank by tapping into his alpha dominance, but when he did, some instinctive force compelled Jim to obey.

For her part, Adler simply nodded.

“So,” the sniper began, “what did you learn from the DNA sample?”

“Well, there’s the basics. The specimen belongs to a female who’s approximately 25-30 years of age. Trace blood fragments at the hair follicle also show that the individual is AB positive and of Nordic descent.”

“We knew that much already,” Moriarty quipped. “Got any new information, or have you brought us here on a wild goose chase?”

“Permit me to finish and you’ll get your answer,” Molly sharply replied.  

“Go on, then.”

“As I was trying to say, those were just the basics. When the DNA was run through various databases, it was found to contain several genetic markers closely associated with a Danish industrialist by the name of Lars de Graaf. Believe it or not, he was in the system because of a sample given to one of those ancestry search websites. But I digress. I’m almost positive that the person you’re looking for is a direct relative of his— in other words, she’s his child.”

Jim and Seb were rendered speechless at the pathologist’s pronouncement. They knew that surname. In Moran’s case, intimately so.

“There’s more,” Molly noted. “I took the liberty of checking into Lars’s genealogy records. Lo and behold, he has two daughters. Or rather, _had_. The elder of the pair died some years ago.”

The former colonel’s blood ran bone-chillingly cold. “Her name was Marguerite,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“That’s correct. You’re familiar with these people?”

He inhaled and exhaled deeply as he contemplated the terrible truth. “Yeah.”

“Process of elimination would suggest that the specimen came from his surviving daughter,” she stated.

Seb was shaking now, assailed by an intense wave of guilt and horror. The person helping Colin wasn’t some random stranger. No, it was Margo’s sister and this was pure retribution.

The mastermind observed his mate’s rapid decline and stepped in to ask questions on both of their behalf. “What’s this woman’s name?”

“Annelise de Graaf.”

Jim thought about it for a second. _Annelise…Annie. Makes sense._ “Any details on her?”

“Just a handful of anecdotal facts. She graduated from the University of Copenhagen and then got involved with a small touring theater company. But that was a few years ago. Currently, she’s fallen off the radar and her whereabouts are unknown.”  

The consulting criminal inwardly scoffed. _Unknown? Ha. She’s been right here in England, conspiring and playing a long con._

“Thank you, Molly. I believe we’ve heard enough.”

“Wait,” she implored. The pathologist reached into the attaché case she carried with her, producing a folder file. “Take this. It’s a copy of my findings. I hope you can use it to bust the monster who killed my cousin’s friend. Gemma’s been a wreck since it happened.”

Jim accepted the document and stood up. He hadn’t even finished his muffin, but pastries be damned at a time like this. Knowledge is power, and with the new information, he and his husband could regain the upper hand.

At least, that’s how Moriarty saw it. Seb, though…well, he wasn’t certain what the assassin was seeing at the moment. The man had gone into a fog, jittering while staring off at nothing in particular. It was more than a little disconcerting.

“Sebastian,” Irene addressed, “you’ve gone incredibly peaked. Are you all right?”

He rose from his chair, standing adjacent to Jim. “No, I’m really not.” The blonde paused, looking around the room and feeling as if it were about to close in on him. “I have to get out of here.” With that said, he bolted for the door.

“Seb!” the Irishman shouted as he watched his Tiger leave in distress. He followed after him, struggling to keep up. When he got outside, he saw that Seb was kicking the ever-loving shit out of his car. It had a decent sized dent in the side where his steel-toed boot made impact.

“Once upon a time, I found myself in a situation similar to this,” Moriarty spoke, removing his sunglasses so he could look the sniper in the eye. “I was beating the hell out of a cabinet in my office, and then a wise and handsome man came in and told me that whatever the storage unit had done to piss me off, it’d learned its lesson. Well, now I get to return the favor.” He took Moran’s hand that was balled into a fist and unfurled it, pressing their palms together while their fingers entwined. “Whatever that Mercedes has done to you, darling, I think it’s been duly punished.”

Seb gazed straight at his mate, a shudder running through him as he was overwrought with emotion. “Oh, Jimmy. I’m so sorry.”

“For what, my dear?”

“For the mess that I’ve brought into your life. This whole debacle with Colin…the danger I’ve put you and our children in…I’m sorry for all of it.”

“That’s bollocks. You’re not responsible for what a madman has done. Quite the opposite— you’ve tried to protect us every step of the way.”    

“But don’t you see? _I’m_ the reason you’ve needed protecting. If it weren’t for me, Colin and Annie wouldn’t have targeted you…kidnapped you…none of it.” He hesitated, adding, “Sometimes I almost think you’d be better off without me.”

“Never, Seb. Fucking _never._ If not for you, I wouldn’t have a life to protect. I’d be long dead by now.”

The assassin grimaced, the mere idea of Jim’s demise feeling like a knife through his heart. “Don’t say that, Magpie.”

“It’s true and we both know it.”

“No…”

“Yes. If you hadn’t been a part of my life, I would’ve killed myself years ago,” he declared. “What happened on the rooftop at St. Bart’s— that would’ve been real. I wouldn’t have faked it.”

Moran shook his head furiously, in denial of his spouse’s claim. “No, no, no.”

“You don’t want to hear it, but it’s the truth,” he insisted. “I never experienced honest-to-god romantic love until I met you. Lust, sure, but not love. People were always so boring and slow, and irritating. Not worth my time,” the genius recalled. “And then you changed all that, Sebastian. You swooped in, and we connected effortlessly. For the first time in my adult life, I was happy. I had a reason to keep going; to wake up every day and face the world anew. It was you.”

“Jimmy—”

“Hush, and let me finish telling you what I need to, okay?”

“Okay.” He nodded, squeezing his husband’s hand.  

“As if that weren’t enough, this past year you’ve given me my greatest joy— our children. You claim your presence has put them in danger, but without you, they wouldn’t exist. So not only have you saved my life, you’ve ensured theirs as well,” Moriarty emphasized. “Don’t apologize for the trouble you think you’ve brought to my doorstep. The good things outweigh the bad tenfold.”     

“Oh, honey. I love you.” Sebastian pulled the smaller man close, encircling him in a fierce hug.

“Easy does it, Tiger. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but be careful of the babies.”

“You’re right, I’ll try to be more mindful.” He slipped a hand down onto Jim’s stomach, hoping to communicate with his little ones. “It’s been a while since Papa’s said ‘hello.’ Do you suppose they remember the sound of my voice?”

“Of course. They’re always listening, even when you’re not speaking directly to them.”

At that moment, the twins shifted position. Their movements could be felt inside and out.

The consulting criminal smiled at his spouse, who sported a matching grin of his own. “See? They recognize you. They’re very clever.”

“Just like their Daddy.”

“Just like us _both,_ ” Jim corrected. “I didn’t marry a fool.”

The two men stared at each other for a beat, stressed, but confident that they could conquer any obstacle, so long as they faced it together.       

“Wanna go home, Magpie? I’m sure there’s much to discuss, in light of what we’ve learned.”

“Yes, that’s a fine idea. I could also do with a soak in the tub. Naturally, I’d require your expert assistance.”

“Perhaps we ought to institute something new— bathtub talk time,” Seb suggested with a wink.

“Darling, I know you’re just teasing, but honestly, I’d be game for it if you were.”

“Oh really?”

“Reeeaaallllly,” the mastermind affirmed. “Some of my best thinking has been done while warm and wet.”

Moran chuckled. “I bet.”

“So let's roll. I’ve got a sore back and we’ve been standing out here for ages.”

Sebastian could not resist coming to his omega’s aid. He chivalrously helped him into the car, making sure his seat was warm and cozy before buckling him in.

“Thank you, love.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

The couple drove off, content to spend the rest of the day basking in togetherness and working out what they should do about Colin and Annie.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	89. Catching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim attends his first pregnancy support group meeting of the new year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I’d like to take a moment to welcome you all back after our recent holiday hiatus. I hope the new year is treating everyone well.” Trevor, the family therapist and Male Omega Pregnancy Support group coordinator, smiled as he delivered his greeting. “I thought that might be a good topic to start off our discussion tonight— how did your Christmases turn out? For some of you, this was your first time celebrating the holidays while expecting. Did that change anything or did the dynamic remain the same?”

“The blizzard threw a wrench into my plans,” a man named Simon announced.

It seemed the tumultuous weather had impacted people’s festivities across the board, as a procession of others chimed in to agree.

“Midnight mass has long been a tradition in my household,” he continued, “but with the snowfall, services were cancelled and we were stuck at home.”

“I had something similar happen,” Jim said. “It wasn’t a mass, but rather dinner plans that ended up being sacked. Things worked out okay, though. My sister-in-law is a wonderful cook, and so we prepared a meal that was actually quite delicious.”

_Sister-in-law._ He smiled as the words left his mouth, never having used them in conjunction with himself before.

“That reminds me, how did the family reunion go?” Ian asked.

Another group member, Jack, raised an eyebrow. “What’s this about a reunion?”

“As a Christmas gift, I brought my husband’s estranged brother— along with his wife and child— all the way from Australia to England. It was the first they’d seen each other in almost 25 years.”

The whole room was impressed by Jim’s gesture, oohing and aahing at the news.

“That’s an awful long time to spend apart. How’d they get along?”

“Very well, I’m pleased to report. Obviously, their relationship isn’t anywhere near perfect, but they made good headway. I look forward to us getting together again in the future.”

“Reconciliation can be a complex process,” the coordinator spoke, “and families often mend fences at their own pace. It sounds like yours is off to a strong start.”   

“I believe it’s a step in the right direction. My babies will have more people in their lives who love them.”

“You’ve got an excellent outlook on the situation, Jim. With positivity, anything is possible.”

“Yeah, right,” Scott, a ginger-haired attendee, commented. “You know where positivity gets you? Absolutely nowhere.”

“Yeesh. Who rained on your parade?” Jack quipped.

“Honestly? My bitch of a sister and her arsehole husband.”

Trevor turned his attention to the disgruntled young man. “Is there something you’d care to share, Scott?”

“I dunno…maybe.”

“We’re willing to listen.”

“It’s just some really personal stuff. I’m not sure I can talk about it in an open setting like this.”

“Oh, come on,” Jack urged. “You can trust us. This is a safe space.”

“Hmm…I guess so.” He took a breath, steeling himself for the discussion. “You may recall that I previously mentioned how my parents wanted to reconnect after they found out I was pregnant.” A few people nodded, and he mustered on. “Well, I went to their place for Christmas. My sister Amy, her spouse, and her 6-month-old daughter were there, too. Everything was going great— we were chatting, laughing, and drinking hot cider around the hearth. It felt like old times again. But…” he trailed off sadly.

“But what?” Jim inquired, curious as to where the story was headed.

“But then Amy decided to breastfeed her baby right in front of everyone, and when I got upset, she couldn’t understand why. It turned into an argument, and her hubby stepped in and made things even worse. I wanted to get the hell out of there, but the goddamn blizzard kept me trapped like a rat in a cage.”

Simon stared at him in confusion. “Pardon me, but I don’t think I understand why you were upset by it either. What was the problem?”

“Seriously? You have to ask?”

“It was because he knows he won’t be able to do the same with his child,” the consulting criminal stated. “I get it.”

“Thank you, Jim. I’m glad someone does.”

“It’s not a matter I ever gave much thought to,” Simon replied.

“Lucky you,” the redhead remarked. “I think about it constantly, especially as I get closer to my due date. I’ve been reading books and watching videos to prepare for raising a newborn, and all the information stresses how much better it is to breastfeed than to bottle-feed. And here I am, trying to be a good mum, but I’m incapable of providing for my son on such a basic, fundamental level. I feel as though I’ve failed him already,” he confessed. “I see Amy nurse her little girl so easily, and it’s like she’s rubbing my nose in it.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t her intention,” Trevor asserted. “When babies are hungry, it’s a mother’s instinct to offer sustenance. She probably just wanted to get her daughter fed as swiftly as possible, and didn’t mean it as a slight against you.”

“Perhaps. All I know is that it hurts.”

“You’re not alone,” Moriarty declared. “I’m bothered by it, too. The first time the reality of it hit me was during a hospital stay. I went to visit the nursery, and when a medical assistant fetched one of the babies for a scheduled feed, it occurred to me that I would never be able to do that for my children. It made me so depressed, I didn’t speak the rest of the afternoon.”

“Male omegas have always faced specialized concerns,” the coordinator acknowledged. “In terms of our inability to nurse due to underdeveloped mammary glands, it’s important to view the issue for what it is— a legitimate medical condition which we have zero control over. There’s no shame in it,” Trevor emphasized. “It has no bearing on whether or not you’re a ‘good’ parent.”

“That’s what my mate said,” the genius recalled. “He told me that plenty of women don’t breastfeed, and it doesn’t make them any less of a mother to their babies. So why should it make a difference for us?”

“Your partner is a smart man, Jim.”

Moriarty smiled. “I tend to think so, though I may be a bit biased.”

“I wish I could find a bloke like him,” Scott lamented.

“Don’t we all?” someone else uttered.

“I agree,” another participant spoke. “He’s so supportive.” 

“And handsome as hell, don’t forget that.”

“He waits in the lobby for Jim at every meeting. Isn’t that sweet?”

“He really is the perfect man.”

As his fellow group members sang the praises of Sebastian, the mastermind found it increasingly difficult to keep a straight face. Apparently, his spouse had a fan club— fucking hilarious. He would relish teasing him about it later.

The conversation canonizing Moran for sainthood eventually wound down, and the chatter moved on to other things. Jack talked about how thrilled his son Reggie was to meet Santa at Harrods. He even pulled out photos to show everyone, and a cuteness overload was experienced by all. Additional holiday tales were told as well, by various attendees. The only person who didn’t divulge any details was Ian. Jim wasn’t certain if that reflected his usual shyness or if it meant something more. He would soon find out.

*********

When they finally reached the mid-meeting break, Moriarty made it a point to approach Ian. They’d not engaged in a proper dialogue since the Christmas party. That night, the teen had hung around until after Jim and Seb returned from the hospital. He was apprised of what happened during the confrontation with Annie and given clearance to leave after seeing off the last few guests. Now a week and a half had passed, and there was a lot of catching up to do.

“So how’ve you been?”

“Good and bad, I suppose. Getting through life as best I can,” the youth answered while nibbling on a butterscotch cookie bar.

“When you say ‘bad,’ how terrible are we talking?”

“I’m not sure how one quantifies these things, but on a scale of 1-10, I’d estimate it to be a solid 7 or 8.”

The consulting criminal’s eyes widened with alarm. “Bloody hell. Fill me in.”

“Well, on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, I experienced some pretty severe abdominal cramps.”

“Oh no.” Jim’s heart sunk at the news.

“Yeah. It was scary,” he admitted. “I live alone, so there was nobody to turn to for help. I had to drag myself to the bus stop and get to the hospital from there.”

“Christ, that’s rough. I’m sorry to hear it.”

“I appreciate your concern,” the young man remarked. “They performed a scan and didn’t find anything wrong, thank god. My pain was attributed to muscles stretching to accommodate the baby. I was allowed to go home, but at that point the snow had started falling and everyone ended up stuck there through the next day.”

“How dreadful.”

“Indeed. It certainly wasn’t how I’d intended to spend Christmas. I don’t have family to celebrate with, but I’d arranged to volunteer at a soup kitchen. I felt rotten about not making it in.”

“Surely they understood, considering the circumstance.”

Ian nodded. “I spoke to the facility’s manager and he was very gracious. It seems the poor weather conditions prevented a lot of the staff from coming in.” He paused for a moment, a small smile slinking across his face. “Want me to let you in on a secret?”

The genius perked up. “Ooh, yes. Do tell.”

“One good thing did come out of my medical ordeal. When I had the ultrasound done, they informed me of my baby’s gender. It’s a girl.”

“Congratulations!” Jim enthused, his expression animated. “Why didn’t you announce it to the group?”

“I was a little too nervous,” he shyly explained. “Anyway, I’m thinking about calling her Matilda, after my late mother.”

“That’s lovely. A fine tribute if ever there was.” Moriarty stopped to ponder something. “We should have our children play together once they’re old enough. Can you imagine? It would be adoooorable.” He could see the picture so clearly in his mind— Essie, Eddie, and Tilly, dressed in raincoats and galoshes, skipping joyfully through mud puddles and the wet grass. Maybe they’d even have a dog romping with them. The idea filled him with such excitement.

“Hey, Jim?”

“Yes?”

“There’s something I really ought to ask you. It’s about work.”

“Go ahead.”

“With Annie obviously being fired after what went down at the Christmas party, does that mean I’m out of a job, too? You hired me to keep an eye on her. If she’s gone, I assume you won’t need me anymore.”

“What? Never,” the consulting criminal insisted. “You’re still in charge of maintaining the business’s website design, plus you’ll be picking up some additional secretarial duties now that she’s been tossed out on her arse.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “Well, okay. I guess I can stop worrying, then.”

“Please do. Too much stress isn’t good for you or Tilly.”

The teen laughed. “Tilly? You’ve given my daughter a nickname already?”

“Of course. It’s only natural, dear.”

“I haven’t had the occasion for nicknames, myself. When your moniker’s as short as mine, it’s hard to abbreviate it any further.

“Ah, I suppose. But there’s always your last name,” Jim noted. “‘Fitzgerald’ offers a wealth of possibilities. Perhaps I should start calling you ‘Fitzy.’”

Ian shot him a look of incredulity. “Don’t you dare. Unless, for some inexplicable reason, you’re trying to piss off your webmaster.”  

“Splendid point. Wouldn’t want to end up with a page full of gifs, emojis, and Comic Sans.”

“Don’t forget clipart,” the young man teased.

“Right. So ‘Ian’ it is.”

 The two both chuckled, enjoying a rare moment of levity.

_Life is good,_ Moriarty mused. Despite all the strife he’d been made to endure, he really did feel optimistic for the future.  

 

If only he knew that soon, the other shoe was about to drop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	90. Don’t Shoot the Messenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian must deliver upsetting news to Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

_I think that’s everything._ Sebastian looked down at the box of confiscated items, checking to be sure there wasn’t anything he’d missed. It contained Jim’s cell phone, their television remotes, their clock radio, and today’s edition of _The Daily Telegraph._

What was the reason for Seb’s sudden hoarding? The answer was simple, but sombrous. He was trying to shield his beloved from truly awful news. It was a bombshell so upsetting, he feared it might send the Irishman into the throes of premature labor should he find out.

Colin Taylor had escaped the psychiatric facility he was being held at and was now on the loose. Worse yet, the breakout occurred two days before Christmas, but was deliberately kept from the press in order to avoid a scandal over the holiday season. Nothing can stay hidden forever, though, and eventually the authorities were forced to acknowledge the incident.

Moran was an erratic mess of emotions, his ordinarily cool demeanor replaced by a primal urge to destroy those who wished to do his omega harm. How else was he supposed to react when informed that the man who’d terrorized them was roaming free, and had apparently been at large for over a week? They were damn lucky the lunatic hadn’t tried anything during their family reunion. Just thinking about the unwitting risk inspired newfound fury within him.   

“Sebbbby!” a familiar voice rang out. Jim was beckoning him from their bedroom.

The sniper closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He was dreading this. He knew he wouldn’t be able to conceal the truth from his mate for long, but maybe he could delay it until he thought of a gentle way to break the news.

"Sebbbby! Come here!”

He trudged upstairs, his trepidation mounting with every step. At last, he entered their sleeping quarters.

“Hello, kitten. You need something?” The blonde put on a brave face, smiling pleasantly as he spoke.

“Yes, have you seen my phone? I had it right next to me on the nightstand and now it’s gone.”

“Maybe you left it somewhere else by mistake? I wouldn’t worry— it’ll turn up sooner or later.”

Moriarty ogled him with suspicion. “Riiiight. I also noticed that the bedside clock is different, too. Any idea what happened there?”

“It wasn’t keeping the correct time. I think it must’ve shorted out, so I replaced it with another model.” _One that doesn’t include a radio where news reports might be airing._

“Ah, I see.”

An uneasy tension wedged between them, but Seb was dead set on pretending nothing was wrong. “Shall I prepare us breakfast, darling?”

“I could eat, yeah.”

“For today, how about I make you anything you want? Bacon, sausage, ham steak— you name it.” All the assassin sought was Jim’s continued happiness. He was fairly certain that once the genius learned of Colin’s escape, his joy would disappear like fog on a mirror. But for now, he could at least give him the small pleasure of a good meal before the bottom dropped out of his world.

The consulting criminal arched a brow at the offer. “That’s mighty generous of you. Why not cook up all three? We’ll have ourselves a meat extravaganza.”

“You got it.”

As he turned to leave, Jim called out again, stopping him in his tracks.

“One more thing. I’d appreciate it if you’d cut the bullshit and quit lying to me.”

Moran’s façade faded instantly, his untempered despair showing through.

“Look at me,” Moriarty commanded, and Sebastian did. It was then that he saw the turmoil painted upon his partner’s face. In a flash, the mastermind’s irritation at being deceived transformed into panic. What could’ve possibly caused Seb such anguish?

“Tiger, what’s the matter?” he prodded, his eyes widening with concern.

“Let’s have breakfast first. We can talk afterward.”

“No. Not later. _Now._ ” The urgency in his tone was palpable. 

“Don’t make me tell you yet,” the sniper beseeched. “Let me give you one last good morning. Please, Jimmy.”

“What do you mean ‘last?’” he frantically asked. “We have a lifetime of good mornings ahead of us.” Seb provided no response, which only worried him further. “Say something, dammit! You’re scaring me.”

BEEP. BEE—

The Irishman silenced his portable blood pressure monitor, ripping it off as soon as the alarm triggered.

“We should sit down,” Seb said.

“I don’t want to sit. I want to know what’s going on.”

“I’ll make you some herbal tea.”

When Moran motioned towards the door, Jim hastily grabbed him by the arm.

“No! Don’t walk away! We’re not done here. You’ll bloody well tell me what’s happened!”

This wasn’t at all how the former colonel hoped things would go. His Magpie wasn’t supposed to know something was wrong from the very start. But then again, James Moriarty was no ordinary bloke. He was a brilliant man, possessing supreme intellect and perception. Of course he’d immediately see past the subterfuge. It was foolish to imagine otherwise.   

“Colin Taylor,” Sebastian finally answered.

The name sent a chill deep into Jim’s core. He paled, feeling as though the oxygen was rapidly being siphoned from the room. “What about him?”

“He escaped from the hospital. The police have no idea where he is.”

“Surely they can track him down. He’ll be apprehended by the end of the day.”

The blonde shook his head. “Honey, Colin broke out shortly before Christmas. They’ve been keeping it from the public all this time.”

An involuntary whimper tore from Jim’s lips. It was a sound no alpha ever wanted to hear, signaling intense omega distress.

Moriarty’s vision began to blur. He tried to practice his breathing exercises, but even those were failing him. Soon, his knees buckled and the world went dark.

“Jimmy!” Seb rushed to catch his collapsing spouse. He laid him on the bed, gently smoothing back a lock of mussed hair. “I was afraid you’d react like this.” _Or worse._

The genius’s eyes fluttered open. Though slightly disoriented, he was comforted by the sight of his husband hovering at his side. He reached for the man’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Tell me everything. Spare no details.”

Moran stopped to collect himself, realizing there was no going back now. “Okay, love. I got up early this morning and the news about Colin was everywhere. The reports cite poor security and a staff shortage as the reason he was able to escape. The police checked his home in Ermington, but there was no evidence that anyone had set foot in the house since his arrest. It’s theorized he may be hiding out with a co-conspirator.”

“Annie,” he spat, uttering the woman’s name as if it were an expletive.

“My thought exactly. It’s got to be her.”

“I could kick myself for ever hiring that bitch. I should’ve seen through her guise. But no, like a fucking idiot, I allowed her into the fold.”

“She deceived us all, hon. She’s a trained actor— putting on appearances is what performers do.”

“I know!” Jim snapped. “I’ve done my fair share of acting, too. I ought to have recognized what she was straightaway.”

“How do you think I feel? I was involved with her sister and I had no idea of her true identity.”

“Yes, but that wasn’t your fault. You never met Margo’s family.” 

“Still, I should’ve noticed their resemblance. Sometimes Annie would look at me, and I’d get this eerie sense of familiarity. If only I’d been smart enough to connect the dots.”

Moriarty heaved a sigh. “We’re wasting our energy playing the blame game. What we need to do is brainstorm a strategy. Construct a plan to stay safe in light of Colin’s escape.”

The assassin nodded. “I’ve already had a few hours to mull it over.”

“And what’ve you come up with?”

“I’m moving you out of London, ASAP. We’ll go to Southern England and remain there until the twins are born.”

Jim stared at his spouse, incensed. “Like hell we will. We discussed this _ages_ ago. I refused to leave then, and I refuse to leave now. This is _my_ city. I won’t turn tail and run.” He paused, adding, “You’re an alpha. How is it that running away seems to be your first instinct?”

Sebastian glared hotly at the smaller man. They were both under a great deal of stress and he didn’t want to respond with anger. Jim made it damn hard not to, though.

“My first instinct is— and always has been— to protect _you_. When I suggest temporarily relocating, it’s not out of cowardice. It’s because I’m trying to ensure your welfare. We stay here and we’re sitting ducks,” he declared. “Have you suddenly developed amnesia and forgotten the numerous threats Colin and Annie have leveled against us? For fuck’s sake, they’ve sent us body parts in boxes and left notes about dismembering our children. Does that mean nothing to you?”

Hurt flashed in the mastermind’s dark eyes, and Seb instantly regretted what he’d said. But the words were out and the damage was done.

“You…you think I don’t care about our babies?” He sounded truly wounded, his voice wavering as if trying to hold back tears.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did! For your information, I would give up my life for our little ones. I love them with all my heart,” the overwrought omega proclaimed. “But maybe you don’t believe me, because I’m James Moriarty, criminal extraordinaire. I’m not supposed to be capable of such sentimental notions, right? God forbid I have thoughts, and feelings, and dreams.”

“Oh, Magpie. I’m sorry,” the sniper apologized, genuinely remorseful for his cruel comment. “I know you adore them. They’ll be the most cherished babies on earth, thanks to you.”

“They certainly will,” he agreed. “I understand you’re on edge— I am, too. But never doubt my devotion to our children. It’s immutable, Seb. I’ll love them forever.”

“We both will.” Moran lifted Jim’s hand to his lips, tenderly pressing a kiss to his fingertips. “I just want to guard my family from danger.”

“I know, Tiger. You’re a loyal soldier and I appreciate what you do.”  

“Can I ask you something, then?”

“Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“Why won’t you permit me to take you away from here? What would be so bad about the two of us journeying to a quaint town near the shore? We could rent a cottage and cook our own meals. I’ve got a stew recipe that’d be ideal to make this time of year,” he noted. “And the hearth— we could cozy up in front of it every night. Remember when we went to the Cotswolds for our anniversary…all the time we spent making love by the fireside? This would be a wonderful way to pay tribute.”

The Irishman gazed at his husband with a serene gleam, momentarily lost in the memory Seb had stirred up. They’d conceived the twins during that trip, and it was an experience he’d not soon forget. The idea that they were creating a brand new life, formed from the both of them, made the act of their coupling feel more meaningful. Gone was the coarseness and aggression that often characterized their sexual encounters, replaced instead by tenderness, passion, and purpose. It was beautiful.

“You tempt me, Sebby.”

“Good. Let’s pack our bags and hit the road.”

“It’s not that simple, my sweet. There are factors to consider.”

“Such as? And don’t say ‘work.’ We can manage the business remotely, and you know it.”

“Well, there’s my medical care, for starters. This is a high risk pregnancy. The obstetrician has me coming in once a week for checkups. I doubt I could get that kind of specialized attention elsewhere,” he stated. “Furthermore, Dr. Swenson is scheduled to deliver the babies in February— a mere month away. She’s one of the best in her field, and I won’t trade in her expertise for some small town physician who’s never treated a male omega before. I’m nervous enough about having surgery; I don’t require any additional stressors mixed in.”

The assassin couldn’t argue with his mate’s reasoning. His health concerns would probably be better served in London.

“That’s not all,” Moriarty continued. “As difficult as it may be to imagine, I do try to live my life by certain principles. Foremost among them is to never surrender to a threat. It isn’t a matter of pride— it’s a stand against fear. Can you understand that?”  

Yes, Sebastian could. He respected it, even. But where did it leave them in terms of safety and security?

“Supposing we stay here, you must allow me to pursue some means of protecting you. I _need_ to make an effort.”  

Jim smiled softly at his anxious partner. “Of course you’ll find ways to protect me. We’ll come up with the provisions together.”

“I’m holding you to that promise.” Seb was still a bit uneasy, but discussing the situation had helped assuage some worries.

“Soooo,” the consulting criminal began, “how about our breakfast? I’m ready for a meat medley.”

“Are you positive you wouldn’t rather have something healthier?”

“Nope. You’re not wriggling out of this one. You made the offer, now it’s time to ante up.”  

“A deal’s a deal,” Moran conceded. “But you’re sticking to your diet for the rest of the day. This is just a one-off.”

“Yes, sir, Colonel,” he cheekily replied.

The blonde winked back at his devilish, yet adorable, mate. _Perhaps I’ll sneak some fresh fruit onto his plate,_ he mused, heading for the door.

“By the way, Tiger? I expect you to return my phone, clock radio, tv remote, and anything else you might’ve absconded with in your vain attempt to keep today’s news from me. Is that clear?”       

“As crystal.” Seb vowed, right then and there, to never conceal the truth from his beloved Magpie again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	91. Checkups & Provisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has a checkup. Afterward, he and Sebastian make plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

THUMP. THUMP.

THUMP. THUMP.

Jim was beaming with delight as he listened to the strong heartbeats of his children. It was a sound he’d heard many times before, but would never grow tired of.

“Your babies are very healthy,” Dr. Swenson said, reassuring the two men who currently occupied her exam room.

The consulting criminal and his spouse exchanged a warm glance as they joined hands at the good news. Jim had been on edge for the past few days, worried out of his mind over what he perceived as reduced fetal movement.

“At this point,” the obstetrician explained, “there’s not much space for them to move around. It’s perfectly normal.”

“See, hon? I told you it would be okay.” Seb was supportive as ever, doing what he could to help his omega through the latter stages of pregnancy.

Jim nodded. “I hate to seem like one of those people who frets about every little thing.”    

“It’s smart to take notice of such changes. I wish all my patients were so attentive.”

“You won’t find a man more observant than him,” Sebastian remarked. “If one of the twins so much as yawns, he claims he can sense it.”

“Hush,” Moriarty objected. “I do not.”

“Oh no? Last week you swore they were yawning. Although it turned out you just had heartburn, so maybe that doesn’t count.”

“Hiccupping,” he quickly corrected. “I thought they were _hiccupping_. It was an honest mistake.”

The physician grinned at the duo. She saw a lot of couples come and go through the doors of her practice, and this pair was among the most endearing she’d encountered in quite a while.

“It won’t be long until delivery. Have you got everything ready for when the babies arrive?”

“Oh yes,” the genius proudly announced. “The nursery and playroom are all set up. We’ve also bought plenty of clothing and supplies.”

“That’s right. Our cubs will want for nothing.”

“Excellent. I always encourage new parents to make a checklist of baby-related items they think they might need. It sounds like you’ve already got it covered.”

The sniper gazed at his mate, grateful he remained in good spirits. Seb had worried that Colin Taylor’s escape from the hospital would send Jim spiraling into a state of anxiety and depression. Thank god that hadn’t happened. He refused to let the bastard ruin one of the happiest periods of his life.

“Dr. Swenson?”

“Yes, Mr. Moriarty?”

“This might sound a bit silly, but I recently read an article that mentioned how, during the third trimester, babies in the womb can enter REM sleep and have dreams. It made me wonder what could possibly be going on in their heads. Not having had _any_ exposure to the outside world, what do you think comprises their dreams?”

“That’s a fine question, and one we may never conclusively know the answer to. My own speculation is that fetal dreams revolve around sensory experiences. A baby might remember certain feelings or sounds, and be reliving them while in a dream state.”

“Interesting hypothesis. When you say ‘feelings,’ what would that equate to in an unborn child? ”

“I imagine it’s a general sense of security, perhaps incorporating voices that bring comfort.”

“I talk to my little ones a lot,” the Irishman noted. “Do you suppose they could be recalling our conversations fondly?”

“In my opinion, yes. But do keep in mind that this is only conjecture.”

“Right.” Though not verifiable, he was keen on the idea. He liked to think of his babies slumbering inside him, dreaming about their ‘chats’ and how safe his voice made them feel. “Maybe I’ll start singing to them as well. Would they enjoy that?”

“I believe so,” the doctor kindly replied.  

Jim looked at his partner. “Seb, we’re going to sing to them together.”

The sniper blinked in surprise. “Come again?”

“You heard me. We’ll perform lullabies and a few ‘Top 40’ classics.”

Sebastian wanted to laugh, but this was one of those occasions where there was at least a 50% chance the man was being serious. Times like these, it was best to simply smile and nod.

“Sure thing, kitten. You know I can’t carry a tune, though. Think back to the karaoke bar in Osaka.”

Moriarty paused, contemplating it. “You’re right. Forget what I said. I’ll do enough singing for the both of us.”

“Splendid. I’m glad we got that settled.”

As the checkup came to a close, Jim wiped the conductive gel from his stomach and sat up. “I want a copy of the images from this week’s ultrasound,” he declared.

“Okay, I’ll print them out now,” the obstetrician spoke. “Still compiling pictures for your baby book?”

“Yeah. Once the twins are born, I’ll begin a whole new album for them. I’m actually considering breaking it down into three separate scrapbooks: one for Essie, one for Eddie, and one dedicated to them as a duo.”

“That’s a lovely idea,” she commented while selecting the monitor’s ‘print screen’ option. “Who can resist baby photos?”

“Not me. Lately, I find myself going through the birth announcements in the newspaper, just in case they’ve included pictures. I wish they all did,” he lamented. “Seb is going to be my photography guy, isn’t that right?”

Jim’s face was lit up with such exuberance, Moran didn’t have the heart to tell him how little experience he had on the subject. He could operate a standard digital camera, but what his husband sought was something more advanced. Honestly, he wasn’t certain why the mastermind would elect to use him for the job rather than hire a professional photographer. Perhaps it was another side effect of the errant hormones coursing through his system— some primal directive that told him his strong, virile alpha could do anything.      

“Tiger?” the Irishman addressed, still waiting for a response.

“Whatever you’d like, I’ll try my best, dear.”

Dr. Swenson swooped in, handing the sonogram copies to Jim. “Good luck with the scrapbooking. I’m sure it’ll be great fun to look back on years from now.”

“That’s the main idea. Posterity at its finest.”

Sebastian glanced the time on his phone. He and Moriarty had a meeting to attend and needed to get going soon.

“Hey, sweetheart? I don’t mean to rush you, but we really should head out to that lunch date I arranged.”

“Ah, yes.” He stood up from the exam table, carefully clutching his printouts. “See you next week.”

“Have a wonderful afternoon, gentlemen.”

The couple bid the physician adieu and went on their way. An important engagement lay in the men’s near future.

*********

“So you truly believe this bloke will be able to help us?”

“I do,” Moran answered.

In an effort to improve upon his spouse’s safety, the former colonel had placed a call to an army buddy who might have some useful connections. Brigadier Roger Flynn was an expert marksman whose military career was prematurely ended by a knee injury. After receiving his discharge, he worked to regain mobility and then put his skillset to use as a freelancer, undertaking any assignment so long as the price was right. Though he wasn’t an especially ethical individual, he was damn good at getting things done and organizing a team.

At last, Seb spied the man from across the restaurant they’d decided to meet at. He waved him over to the VIP section where they sat. For privacy purposes, it made the most sense to reserve a table in that area of the eatery.

“Sebastian Moran,” the gun-for-hire greeted as they shook hands. “It’s been too long. How are you?”

“Pretty good overall, but I wouldn’t have contacted you if life was entirely perfect.”

“Indeed not,” he agreed. “What sort of trouble are you up against these days?”

The blonde presented a folder file to his old comrade. Information regarding Colin Taylor and Annelise de Graaf was outlined therein.

“I’m going to give you the abbreviated version of this story,” Seb began. “The two people described in the document you’re holding have terrorized Jim and I for months. They’re guilty of stalking, kidnapping, murder, harassment, and more— their transgressions run the gamut. We have plans to deal with them in our own way, but as you can plainly see, we’re also in the midst of expanding our family.”

Roger nodded. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” he acknowledged. “As I was saying, we’ve chosen to wait until after the babies are born to extract our pound of flesh. Now here’s where you come in: we need to beef up security to ensure that these lunatics don’t harm Jim through the remainder of the pregnancy. We’ve tried increasing security before, but it wasn’t enough. This time, I want there to be absolutely no margin of error.”

“So you require bodyguards?”

“Not quite— it’s more than that. I require a well-trained group of people who will remain vigilant at all hours and be prepared to defend my mate and our home through whatever means necessary. In other words, I’m looking to dismiss the current security staff and employ a band of mercs in their stead. I’d like you to assemble the best you’ve got and head up the team.”

The man paused, mulling it over. “You may be a friend, Moran, but this is going to be a costly endeavor. Good help doesn’t come cheap.” 

“We’re well aware of that,” Jim interjected. “Money is no object and we’re willing to provide weaponry and ammunitions.”

“I suppose I’d be a fool to turn down a gig like this,” he admitted. “It’ll take a few days to gather everyone, of course. I’ll also need a stipend up front.”

“You got it. Seb, grab my checkbook.”

The sniper obliged, pulling the item from Moriarty’s coat pocket and handing it to him.

“How’s £25,000 to start?”

“Sounds great,” the sharpshooter enthused.

Jim wrote out the check and slid it across the table. “There you go. More will be forthcoming once you’ve brought me the group. And do know that I reserve the right to reject your selections and request alternate team members upon review. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fabulous. I look forward to doing business with you, Brigadier.”

“Likewise.”

With that matter settled, the consulting criminal skimmed the menu in front of him. “God, I’m hungry. Think I might order a nice Porterhouse steak.”

“This is a real luncheon?” Roger asked in surprise. “Here I assumed it was just a pretense to conduct our meeting under.”

Moriarty smirked. “You’re working for me now, dear. Expect the unexpected.”       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	92. The Highs and Lows of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian engage in a bit of pillow talk. Later, Jim has a group meeting where the topic turns dour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The second half of the chapter discusses pregnancy loss. Don't worry-- Jim's babies are okay. I just mention this because I realize it's a sensitive topic. 
> 
> **********************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

In the days following Jim and Seb’s meeting with brigadier turned freelance assassin Roger Flynn, their residence had transformed into something of a fortress. Once the mastermind gave his approval of Flynn’s mercenary team, intensive security measures were implemented. Armed guards surrounded the estate and could communicate via Bluetooth technology. Most were positioned on the ground, with a few posted in the trees as well. It was a round-the-clock effort, utilizing infrared sensors in addition to manpower. Nothing could get within 10 feet of the house without someone knowing about it.  

Those who stopped by were required to present ID verification, or else be turned away on sight. This worked out fine a majority of the time. However, a recent incident had sent Jim reeling. He’d ordered takeout, and when the deliveryman declined to show identification because his hands were full, someone on duty seized the food packages and shot several rounds into them as a precaution. Needless to say, the consulting criminal was _not_ pleased about having his dinner blown to smithereens. Seb had to physically restrain him after he used his motorized wheelchair to careen into the person responsible. From that point on, nobody made the mistake of coming between Moriarty and his meals. 

Speaking of meals, the couple was now in the midst of afternoon tea. Jim had plowed through a pile of cucumber sandwiches and showed no signs of slowing down. He was positively voracious…in more ways than one.

“Tiiiiiiger?”

“Yes, love?”

“It was a brilliant idea, using honey to sweeten your Earl Grey instead of plain old sugar cubes. Sugar’s soooo _ordinary._ ”

The sniper smiled. “Glad you approve.”

Moriarty gazed at his mate with a wanton gleam. “I certainly doooo. I can think of a few more applications for it, too.”

“Oh?” Sebastian had a pretty good idea where this was headed, but sometimes it was fun to play dumb.

“Mmhmm.” He picked up the bear-shaped honey dispenser, giving it a small jiggle. “I think it’d be yummy to lick this off your body.”

Moran gasped in mock surprise. “Are you propositioning me, sir? What kind of man do you take me for?” he deadpanned.

“A sexy one.”

The blonde chuckled. “You’re quite cheeky today.”

“How about we be cheeky together?” His dark eyes twinkled devilishly as he spoke.

“No beating around the bush, aye?”

“Sometimes it’s best to cut straight to the chase.”

“Can’t argue there.” He took one last sip of tea before standing up from the table. “Let’s go.”

Jim was delighted that his partner required no convincing. “So eager, my sweet.”

“For you? Always.”

The Irishman hummed happily and began wheeling towards the direction of the elevator.

“Magpie?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget the honey.”

A lopsided grin graced Moriarty’s face. This was going to be a fantastic afternoon. 

*********

“I’m thirsty,” Jim remarked.

“Gee, I wonder why?” the sniper teased. “Maybe it has something to do with the sweat you worked up.”

They’d been going at it for nearly three hours— not a record by any means, but it was an impressive feat considering one of them was at an advanced stage of pregnancy. Even Seb marveled at his mate’s stamina. Twice, he’d asked him if he wanted to stop, and twice he was told ‘no’ by the seemingly indefatigable Irishman.

“Here,” Moran said, offering up the water bottle he kept by the bed.

Jim swiftly accepted it, guzzling with gusto. Soon, its contents were drained.

“I _so_ needed that.” He snuggled close to Seb, resting his head against the man’s chest.

“Finally tuckered out?”

“Nah, I’m just relaxing a little until I have to get ready for my MOPS meeting.”

“Another one? I almost forgot. Too much sex scrambling the brain.”

Moriarty laughed. “A perfectly valid medical condition.”

“Yes, I’m debating the merits of applying for workers’ compensation, seeing as how the malady was induced by my employer.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” he sarcastically intoned. “And you have the nerve to call me ‘cheeky?’”

“You know I’m only kidding. I love you, kitten.”

The mastermind shifted so that he could stare into the pools of his partner’s deep blue eyes. “I love you, too.” He paused, caught up in thought. “Sebby? I’d also like to thank you.”

“For what, dear?”

“Everything, really— for staying in the city with me despite how dangerous it may be. For bringing people here who could help us. For protecting me and the babies. Thank you for all of it.”

“You’re my husband, Jim. Of course I’m going to do whatever’s necessary to ensure your safety. That’s not something you have to thank me for, though I do appreciate the gesture.”

“My whole life, hardly anyone cared what happened to me. Not until you came along. I think that’s worth acknowledging.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I wish things could’ve been better for you.”

It always saddened the assassin to think about how cruel the world was to his Magpie growing up. He remembered the childhood photo Jim had showed him months ago, depicting his mother holding him up so that he could touch the star on top of a Christmas tree. The sweet little boy in that image deserved so much more than the hell he was given.  

“Nothing to be done about it now. But I do take solace in the fact that our darlings will never know that kind of pain. They’ll be thoroughly adored. Anyone who treats them otherwise will be made into shoes.”

“Agreed.”

The couple remained in bed for some time, nestled together, quietly enjoying each other’s company and warmth. Eventually, Moriarty broke their contented silence.     

“Seb? I’ve got an idea regarding our current situation.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“I think we should investigate Annie’s whereabouts. She’s been MIA since the night of the party,” he noted. “If we can track her down, chances are good we’ll find Colin as well.”

“Honey, ordinarily I’d be game for a hunt, but now? We’ve gone over this— it’s far too risky to seek those bastards out while you’re in a compromised state. What’s most important at the moment is your safety.”

“I understand that. I just feel I should be doing something proactive.”

“You are, Jimmy. You’re putting our children first by keeping out of harm’s way. That’s a huge contribution.”

“Is it? Because often, it feels suspiciously like I’m sitting on my arse, streaming movies and gobbling chocolates while those fucking psychopaths roam free.”

“They’ll get what’s coming to them in due time. And who knows— maybe they’ll visit us, and Flynn’s team can shoot the shite out of them.”

“Is it bad that a part of me hopes they _don’t_ get to them before we do? I’m rather looking forward to exacting my revenge after the twins are born,” Moriarty confessed.

“Honestly? Me too.”

“I suppose it would be a change of pace, though, to see their bullets used against something besides an innocent platter of manicotti and garlic bread.”

“You’re not going to let that one go, are you?”

“Never. It’s a sin to waste good Italian food.” He sighed. “I shouldn’t talk about this, it’s making me hungry.”

“We’ve got time before you have to go out. Why don’t I whip us up some dinner?”

The genius flashed his mate a hopeful look. “Oh, that would be divine.”

“Then your wish is my command.” He leaned over to steal a quick kiss from Jim, then stood up and slipped on a pair of sweatpants.

Moriarty ogled Sebastian shamelessly. “I propose we institute a ‘no clothes’ policy around here.”

“Do you, now? Might get a tad chilly this time of year. Perhaps the summer months would be more conducive to such an ordinance.”  

“Yes, perhaps so.” The Irishman made a mental note that Moran hadn’t dismissed the notion outright. The possibility was there.

“How’s pasta primavera sound?” Seb asked. “We’ve got leftover veggies in the fridge I could throw in.”

“I want it already. Get moving, chef.”

“Chef? Ooh, that’s new.”

“Would you prefer I call you ‘servant boy?’”

“Well, if I have a choice in the matter, then I think I’d like to be known as ‘King Moran, master of magpie taming and long-range weaponry.’”

Jim arched a brow. “ _Taming?_ Ha. You’re lucky you’re handsome, or there’d be hell to pay for that bit.” One look at Seb’s sexy, sharky grin, and the consulting criminal melted like butter. 

Sebastian chuckled, proceeding towards the door. “I ought to get cooking. Meet me downstairs?”

“Yeah.” He paused, thinking it over. “I’d like to dine in front of the fireplace tonight.”

“Sure thing, hon. I’ll arrange the place settings.”

As his spouse left the room, a gentle smile emerged on Jim’s face. He was really and truly happy.

*********

The latest Male Omega Pregnancy Support meeting was already in session when one of its members arrived nearly 20 minutes late. Looking rather haggard, Simon’s sudden appearance turned a few heads.

“We were about to send out a search party,” Jack remarked.

“Aye,” said another. “Did you take a nap and oversleep?”

“Maybe he was having a romantic evening and lost track of the time,” someone else suggested.

“Is everything about romance with you? Sheesh.”

“Hey, I’m lonely and pregnant— allow me to dream.”

Conversation amongst the group went back and forth, until finally, Simon removed his jacket and the question was answered. He wore a hospital band around his wrist, clearly indicating where he’d been.

The chatter instantly went silent. All those gossipy voices, hushed in one fell swoop.

“Glad you were able to make it,” Trevor, the coordinator, spoke. “Is everything okay?”

He hesitated, realizing he had the full attention of the room. “I…uh…yes and no. I was at the hospital earlier tonight because I thought I was going into labor.”

The answer generated a buzz, as everyone knew he wasn’t far enough along to safely give birth.

“You’re here now,” Scott pointed out. “So it must’ve been a false alarm?”

Simon nodded. “Thankfully, yes. They said it was Braxton Hicks contractions, which are fairly common.”

“No real harm, then— you’ll be fine.”

“Fine…sure. Right as rain.” Despite the positive news, he was visibly upset, tears filling his eyes and streaming down his cheeks.

An awkward tension eclipsed the room. Nobody had a clue what to say.

Trevor passed the distraught omega a box of Kleenex. “A medical scare like that can be nerve-wracking, but the worst is over and you can relax.”

“No,” he uttered between sobs. “You don’t get it. I _can’t_ relax. Not ever.”

Moriarty sat there, watching as the melodrama played out. He and Simon weren’t exactly close, and had in fact butted heads upon first meeting. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel sympathetic to him at the moment.

“Simon?” the mastermind addressed. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve spent a fair amount of time in and out of the hospital myself during the past several months, so I know where you’re coming from. It’s terrifying, especially when it isn’t only your life that’s at risk, but your child’s as well. The doctors let you leave, though, which is a _good_ sign,” he emphasized.    

“Yeah,” Ian chimed in. “I had a bit of a fright recently, too, but it turned out okay in the end. I think most of us can relate to how traumatic the experience is. What’s important to remember is that your baby’s safe. He’s still inside you, growing and thriving, and it’s better for him if you try to calm down.”

Simon wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry to be acting like this in front of you all. It’s just got me so shaken up. I can’t lose another baby. It would destroy me.”

The mood in the room grew sullen at his admission. There was nothing a pregnant omega— be they male or female— feared more than the prospect of harm coming to their unborn child. Many group members unconsciously placed a hand on their midsections, protective of the lives housed within.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened before? With your last pregnancy, I mean.” Jim posed the question everyone was thinking, but dared not speak.

“I had a stillborn son,” he replied. “His name was Alfie, and the situation was particularly distressing because he seemed fine, until suddenly he wasn’t. He was growing and moving…we had plenty of sonograms done. Everything was picture perfect. And then, with only two weeks left until his due date, they couldn’t find a heartbeat.” Simon paused, getting choked up at the memory of it. “There was a cord accident. Without warning or reason, it wrapped around his neck and killed him.”

The story was too upsetting for some. A few MOPS participants were in tears, the harrowing tale making them scared for their own babies. No one, however, was more disturbed by it than Jim. He refused to let the group see him cry, instead aching on the inside while he put up a steely façade.

People were talking and the coordinator offered comforting words, but Moriarty didn’t hear a single thing that was said. The myriad of voices distorted into a buzz in his head. The only clear messages he was receiving were thoughts of abject dread.

_What if your babies don’t survive? What if it’s all been for nothing? The effort and the love; the hopes and dreams you so naïvely allowed yourself to have— what if none of it matters?_

_It’d be fitting, wouldn’t it? For the universe to finally seek retribution against the evil you’ve done, by taking away the only good and pure thing to ever come from you?_

_You’d be a terrible parent anyway. Monsters can’t be mums. You don’t deserve Essie and Eddie._

_No! No, no, no!_

He wanted to shut off his brain. Silence the demons that waged war in his psyche. Once the Pandora ’s Box of doubt and self-loathing was opened, it was difficult to close.

But not impossible. 

There was one person in this world who could always help him weather through the worst. Could always shine a light to lead him back from the abyss.

_Sebastian._ His love, his mate. His solider and source of unyielding devotion. He needed to see him now. 

And so he would. Jim excused himself from the room, claiming he had to use the lavatory. Really, though, he wheeled himself down the hall in search of his husband.

Rolling. Rolling. Rolling.

At last, he reached the building’s foyer where the sniper typically waited. He quickly ascertained that something was different this time. Different, and worrying.

Seb was nowhere in sight.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	93. The Highs and Lows of Life, Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprises abound as Jim learns where Seb has been, and later, he receives news from his protégé, Ian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of violence and bloodshed (nothing too graphic). Reader discretion is advised. 
> 
> **********************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Jim’s portable blood pressure monitor sounded off as he panicked at not being able to find his husband in the community center foyer. Seb _always_ waited for him there without fail. So where was he now? 

_He wouldn’t just leave for no reason. Something must’ve happened. But what? Oh god, did someone abduct him?_

A million awful explanations ran through his head, each possibility worse than the last.

BEEP. BEE—

Moriarty removed the monitor cuff from around his arm, not wanting to hear the shrill alarm any longer. He was grateful the damn thing hadn’t triggered while in the meeting room.

Suddenly, an idea came to mind. He’d send his missing mate a text message.

_JM_

_Where are you?_

 

A minute passed with no response.

 

_JM_

_Answer me, Seb. Where are you?_

 

Still nothing.

 

_JM_

_Seb! I demand to know your location. That’s an order._

_You’re going to be in BIG trouble if you don’t reply soon._

_Sebby? Come on._

_This isn’t funny. Tell me where you are._

_Tiger? Answer me._

_Please._

 

Tears welled in Jim’s eyes as he was now officially frantic. His phone shook in his hand and he struggled to breathe. If not for the fact that he was already sitting down, he likely would’ve fainted. Even the twins seemed to sense his unrest, kicking with an urgency he hadn’t felt in some time.  

He knew he should return to the group, lest people start to worry. How could he, though, when his husband was unaccounted for? He’d never be able to concentrate on the discussion until he was assured of Seb’s safety.

In a last ditch effort, the consulting criminal decided to actually call Moran. Unfortunately, it went to voicemail.

“Fuck,” he muttered in frustration.

 _Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe Seb simply popped out for a bit. But…why isn’t he responding to my communications? If he was okay, he’d at least text me back._ Moriarty was torn, not sure what to think. 

Before he could deliberate on the issue further, a wondrous sight appeared. It was Sebastian walking through the front door of the building.

The genius got up from his wheelchair and rushed to greet Moran with a fierce hug. He then followed up the gesture with a slap to the face.

“Oww! What kind of mixed message is that?” the sniper asked, rubbing his sore cheek.

“It’s for worrying me sick. Where were you?”

“Taking care of unfinished business.”

“Oh?” The statement piqued Jim’s interest. He looked his partner up and down, trying to deduce whatever clues he could. _His shoes._ There was a tiny crimson droplet drying on the exterior of his boot, and he was fairly certain the substance wasn’t paint.

“Judging by the blood on your footwear, I say you _have_ been busy.”

Moran glanced down, seeing the offending stain for himself. “Dammit, I thought I’d avoided getting anything on me.”

“So,” the mastermind began, “who was on the receiving end of this ‘unfinished business?’”

“Our favorite Heathrow employee, Ferdinand.”

Jim’s solemn expression lit up at the news. _Ferdinand._ It was the son of a bitch who'd refused him wheelchair service at the airport. "Do tell." 

“After you agreed to let me have a crack at him, I observed the bastard in secret for a few days. Saw him give other male omegas a hard time, like he did to you. But between home life and work, I haven’t had the opportunity to make my move,” he explained. “I decided to finally pay him a proper visit tonight while you were occupied with your meeting.”

“You should’ve told me what you were planning.”

“If I did, you’d have wanted to come with me.” It was the truth. Moriarty loved to watch his hubby in action.

“Since when is that a bad thing? We’ve had some magnificent evenings together when I’ve accompanied you in the past.”

“Yes, we certainly have. But in your current condition, it wouldn’t be safe. I’m no expert, but I do believe pregnant people are generally discouraged from lingering at crime scenes.”

The Irishman sighed. “Can you at least tell me how you did it? So I can visualize it in my mind.”

“No harm in that, I suppose. I snuck up on him from behind and slit his throat with the knife you bought me. Then I disposed of his body in a dumpster. It was over relatively quickly. I made a conscious effort not to dally. I wanted to get back here to you.”

Jim closed his eyes for a moment, picturing the events in his head. He envisioned the glimmer of the blade and the smooth motion as it sliced through unsuspecting flesh. He imagined the spray of blood his mate was careful to miss, except for a single drop. He could almost hear the gurgling sounds the man surely made during his final death throes. Moriarty _so_ wished he’d been there to witness it all.

“Thank you, Tiger. I needed something to help me refocus. I think your story did the trick.”

“Anytime, hon.” Amazing that a tale of murder could somehow center his partner the same way yoga or meditation might pacify an ordinary person. Jim was nothing if not unconventional.  

The consulting criminal threw his arms around the blonde once more, clinging to him in earnest. _My Sebby._  

“What are you doing out here, dear? You should be at your meeting.”

“Someone shared a personal experience with the group and it upset me.”

Moran frowned. “What could’ve been so bad?”   

“Simon had a stillborn baby when he was nearly full-term.”

“Bloody hell, that’s awful.”

“Yes, it is. After he described what happened, I couldn’t even pay attention to the conversation. All that went through my mind was overwhelming dread. I was so out of sorts, I had to leave the room.”

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I know how tense you get regarding the twins. Shame on Simon for putting those terrible ideas in your head.”

“It’s not his fault, Seb, not really. I asked him about it, so if anything, it’ll teach me to be less nosy.” Jim was silent for a second, lost in contemplation. “It’s the scariest prospect in the world— coming this far, only to lose a child regardless of the effort and love put in. To realize that it could be snatched away so easily. It’s chilling.”

Sebastian held his spouse close. “I know, Magpie. But I won’t let anything happen to you or them.”

“I’m afraid some things are impossible to guard against, no matter how much one tries. Simon had lots of ultrasounds done and his baby still died.”

“Hush. I’ll hear no more talk of tragedy from you. If you’re truly this concerned, we’ll take a ‘one day at a time’ approach. Today our children are healthy. We heard them loud and clear at the doctor’s office. As for tomorrow, we’ll deal with that when it comes. Okay?”

The Irishman looked up into his Tiger’s eyes and smiled warmly. “Okay.”

“Good. Now let’s get you back to your meeting.”

“I left under the guise of using the loo,” he admitted. “It may seem suspicious that I’ve been gone so long.”

“I see. Well, we can tell them that you ran into me and we got sidetracked gabbing. I’ll escort you myself to make it seem believable.”

“Oh, some of the guys will love that,” Jim noted.

Moran chuckled. “They have excellent taste.”

“Much as I’d like to wipe the smug grin off your face, in this case, I can’t disagree.”

Without further ado, the couple journeyed down the hall to reconvene with Jim’s support group. As it turned out, they were just breaking for intermission. Even so, Seb’s presence garnered attention.

“Don’t mind me,” the former colonel declared. “We got caught up chatting and I figured I’d bring him back here.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” Scott wistfully remarked.

“I try.”

“Yes, we’re all appreciative of you, darling. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to go sample that pie over there,” Moriarty said, referring to the French silk dessert Jack had brought in. He’d gotten it from an actual bakery, meaning it would be a step up from the generic store-bought treats served of late.

“Sure thing, love. Take care.” Seb bent down to give Jim a quick peck on the lips before exiting.         

Many of the MOPS participants had watched the duo keenly, looking as if they were about to swoon at any moment. The mastermind secretly felt a swell of pride, pleased that despite everyone’s interest in Sebastian, only _he_ could have him. It was fun to be the envy of the crowd. 

Ian walked up alongside Moriarty at the refreshments table. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“All right. Probably better once I try this pie.” He’d just dished out a slice but had yet to taste it.

“I’m sure it’s delicious.” The young man stared at his friend and employer like he wanted to say something, but was a bit too socially awkward to get the words out.

“Okay, what is it you’ve got to tell me?” Jim inquired, reading Ian’s signals.

He blushed. “Am I really so obvious?”

“Yeah, but it’s endearing,” the genius replied. “Let’s settle somewhere and we can talk.”

Ian agreed, and the two of them sat at a table away from the rest of the group. Some of the guys could be gossipy, so it was prudent to stay out of their earshot.

“Lay it on me,” Jim implored.

“Well, I’m excited to announce that as of tomorrow, I’ll be purchasing my first ever vehicle. I look forward to no longer being beholden to the London transit system.”  

“Ian, that’s wonderful. What kind is it?”

“A silver MINI Cooper Countryman,” he enthusiastically informed. “I know what you’re thinking— Minis are small. But not this one. It’s their largest model, a subcompact SUV.  It should be plenty big enough for me and Matilda.”

“Sounds delightful. I still remember my first car. It was a rather dodgy Ford pickup I won in a card game when I was eighteen.”

“ _You_ owned a truck?” the teen asked, utterly shocked by the news.

“Don’t act so surprised. I can handle myself quite well behind the wheel of any automobile.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest that you couldn’t. I just figured your first car would’ve been a luxury model.”

“If only,” he lightheartedly mused. “The truck was a real junker. There always seemed to be something wrong with it. As soon as one problem was fixed, another would emerge to take its place. Fortunately, I was shagging a mechanic at the time, so the maintenance was cheap.”

Ian laughed. “How advantageous. Luckily, the car I’m getting is brand new. It should last a while.”  

“With proper upkeep, I’m sure it will.”

“Right. I can’t wait to take it for a spin. I was wondering if you’d care to join me?”

The consulting criminal grinned devilishly. “Ooh, I do love a good joyride.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Hmm.” Truthfully, he was beginning to go a bit stir-crazy cooped up in the fortress of his house. A day out might be just what he needed. “I’ll come, yeah.”

“Smashing,” the youth exclaimed. “We’ll have loads of fun.”

“I think we will, too.” Moriarty meant it. Tomorrow they’d be two omegas on the open road— wild, whimsical, and free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up: it won't be too many more chapters until the babies are born! Probably a few more, but still soooon! I'm really looking forward to writing those parts.


	94. On the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Ian have an unexpectedly serious discussion while joyriding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

It was a beautiful winter morning in London. The temperature was rising, the snow was melting, and even birds had begun to sing again. Most exciting of all, Jim was getting set for an adventure with his protégé, Ian. The young man had purchased his first car, and together, they’d be taking it for its inaugural spin. 

“You look good,” Sebastian remarked, noting that the mastermind had changed out of his pajamas earlier than usual. He wore tailored trousers and a sweater— casual, but quite stylish. More than that, though, he appeared to be in an upbeat mood and it showed.

“Thank you, darling. I _feel_ good, too.”

Moran came up from behind Jim, wrapping an arm around the smaller man and pressing a kiss to his neck. “Want me to make us some breakfast? I have a French vanilla pancake recipe I’m dying to try out.”

“That’s extremely tempting, my dear, but I was thinking Ian and I would grab something simple while we’re on the road. Probably an egg McMuffin or the like.”

The blonde pulled away, moving to face his mate. “On the road? Where are you going?”

“Nowhere, really— just a jaunt around the city. Ian got a new car and we’re breaking it in.” He paused, acutely aware of the glare Seb was shooting him. “Stop pouting, soldier. This is merely a bit of harmless fun, which I could certainly use after having my home transformed into a veritable prison.”

“You agreed to the increased security measures.”

“Indeed, I did. But the idea of what it means to be on lockdown versus the reality is rather sobering. I need a break from it.”

“I’m coming with you,” Sebastian declared.

“No,” he sharply replied, “you’re _not_. I’m a big boy. I can handle going out for a ride with a friend. I’ll return in one piece.”

“It isn’t safe. Colin and Annie could—”

“How would Colin and Annie know a bloody thing about Ian’s new vehicle?” Jim demanded, cutting his spouse off in mid-sentence. “I only learned of it last night. They won’t be tracking it, I guarantee.”

“Fine,” the sniper conceded. “That may be true, but it doesn’t negate any and all danger from the situation. Two pregnant omegas shouldn’t be driving alone.”

At those words, a look of unbridled rage burned in Jim’s eyes. “How _fucking_ DARE you! That’s sexist bullshit and you know it!”

Moriarty took a deep breath to calm himself, and then walked briskly towards the elevator. Seb followed.

“Magpie, please. Don’t rush off. I’m just worried you could get into an accident or some other kind of trouble. That’s all.”

“Oh? Then why did you expressly say ‘two pregnant omegas,’ huh? Anyone could get in an accident, but you were very specific as to who you meant.”

“It was a slip of the tongue.”

“Yeah, right. You already watch me like a hawk here at home. Now you want to keep tabs on where I go and who I see,” the Irishman spat. “Newsflash, Seb— it isn’t the dark ages anymore and expectant omegas are allowed to leave the house of their own volition. A shocking revelation for you, I’m sure.”

They rode the elevator downstairs in silence. Well, partial silence. Sebastian tried talking to his partner, but the genius wouldn’t reply.

“Silent treatment, aye? How incredibly mature. Keep this up and you’re bound to set a wonderful example for our children.”

This time, instead of anger, a deep hurt resonated on Jim’s face. His parental abilities were a source of insecurity, and a barb like that was more wounding than he’d ever admit.

To his credit, Moran immediately knew he’d fucked up. “Honey, I’m sorry. That was harsher than I intended.”

“Don’t apologize. You delivered it with expert cruelty. The old ‘me’ would’ve been proud.”

When the elevator opened, Moriarty stormed up to the front door and was confronted by a mercenary positioned on the porch. He was in no mood to deal with his warden, though, charging past without a second thought. Seb, who trailed behind him, told the guard it was okay to let him go.

Ian arrived right on schedule, poised behind the wheel of his spiffy new MINI Cooper. He was made to show ID and was quickly approved.

In the consulting criminal’s haste, he pushed his body harder than what was recommended. By the time he reached the car, he was panting heavily.

A second guard, the one tasked with asking for identification, attempted to stop him. Jim, too breathless to speak, resorted to using a universal gesture to get his point across— i.e., he flipped the man off while slipping inside the vehicle.

“Are you okay?” Ian inquired with concern.

“Just go,” he wheezed.

Before the young man could drive away, Seb had caught up and was tapping on the side window panel. Not knowing what the hell was happening, Ian rolled down the glass to hear Moran out.

“Jim, I’m truly sorry,” the sniper pled. “Don’t leave like this. Let me come with you, or at least permit me to send someone on the team to follow.”

“Piss off,” the genius snarled.

“Please, Magpie. You’re not even wearing your blood pressure monitor or a coat.”

“Gee, I wonder why? Maybe it’s because my alpha was being an arsehole and I wanted to get away from him as fast as possible.” 

“Be reasonable, for fuck’s sake.”

“Reasonable?” he scoffed. “Oh, that’s rich.” The Irishman turned to his driver, directly addressing the youth. “No more lollygagging. Let’s roll.”

Sebastian made one final appeal. “Ian, look out for him!” he shouted as the vehicle took off down the street. He remained standing by the curb, watching the car disappear into the distance. Though he knew it was a longshot, a part of him somehow hoped that the two would change their minds and come back. No such luck.

*********

“Pardon my language,” Ian began, “but what the fuck is going on? Why are you so mad at your husband, and why was he freaking out about you leaving?” Until now, the young man had only ever seen the good side of the duo’s marriage, never privy to their fights.

“He claims he’s afraid something bad will happen to us if we go out by ourselves,” Moriarty explained. “He actually said, and I quote, ‘two pregnant omegas shouldn’t be driving alone.’ Can you believe it? The nerve of him.”

“Well, that’s an awfully blunt way to put it, but it’s possible the remark came from a place of genuine concern.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re supposed to be _my_ friend, not a Sebastian Moran apologist.”

“I _am_ your friend. I’m also a third party who can view things from a slightly different perspective. In this case, I think your mate loves you a lot and wants to keep his family safe. He phrased his statement poorly, but I’m sure the feelings behind it were sincere.” 

The mastermind was quiet for a moment, ruminating over Ian’s words. They stirred up something inside him that he hated to admit.

“Penny for your thoughts,” the teen prodded, trying to get the older man to open up.

“You certain you want to hear? The things that go through my head aren’t for the faint of heart.”

“Go on. Pretend we’re at a meeting and you’re sharing with the group. I’ll attempt my best Trevor impersonation,” he added, referring to the MOPS coordinator.   

“All right. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” _Where to begin?_ “I guess maybe my reaction to what Seb said was a bit extreme. I didn’t need to behave in such a kneejerk manner.”

“Okay,” Ian acknowledged, listening keenly while focusing his eyes on the road. “Why do you suppose you reacted so rashly?”

“It may have been because…” he trailed off, hesitant to reveal the true impetus for his ire.

“Because what, Jim?”

He paused, inhaling and exhaling deeply in an effort to relax. “Because for a split second, when he said that pregnant omegas shouldn’t drive alone, it made me doubt myself. I felt scared and vulnerable and out of sorts. It was only for a fraction of an instant, but that was long enough.”

“I see. Is it conceivable, then, that your reaction might’ve come from a desire to ‘give it back to him,’ so to speak? Make him feel the way you did?”

“No…maybe…I don’t know.” The genius was a confused mess of hormones, emotions, and instincts. He simultaneously yearned to lash out and retreat inward.

_Shut up, shut up, shut up!_ Jim thought to himself. _But it’s true. Seb probably felt all those things when I stormed off. Not knowing where I was going, and by extension, not knowing where the babies would be. Worried because I didn’t bother to wear a coat, even though it’s wintertime_. _Bloody hell, that was a reckless thing to do._

“Oh, Ian. I acted like an idiot. I’ve always had such a hair-trigger temper,” he confessed. “I’ve tried so hard to work on myself…to be a better man for my children’s sake. But I still fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. What’s wrong with me?”

“I can’t rightly answer that, Jim. I may do a decent Trevor impression, but unlike the real version, I don’t have any fancy psychology degrees. However, if you want my opinion as a friend, I believe you’re a spirited kind of guy. Feisty, impassioned, and the cleverest bloke I’ve ever met. You experience life on an intense level.”

“And that makes me crazy? Makes me some sort of savage who strikes against people without a second thought?”

“You’re fiery, is what I’m saying. Maybe that’s just who you are, and you need to find a way to channel that erratic energy into something constructive.”

The consulting criminal sighed. “I did for a while. Took up baking, and it was a godsend. I came to love creating new and tasty treats; surprising Seb and my employees with all types of desserts.”

The young man nodded while continuing to watch the road. “I remember you used to bake stuff for the group early on when you joined. Why’d you stop?”

“It got too hard to move around in the kitchen. I’m fine sitting or reclining, but walking back and forth from the counter, to the oven, to the table over and over again was rough.”

“But you have a wheelchair now. Two, if I remember correctly. You mentioned your mate got you a motorized model for Christmas. That must make it easier, aye?”

“Possibly,” he replied. “I baked cookies with Paige and Penny during the holiday, and played around a bit with the new chair then. It worked out okay, but I attributed that mainly to the fact that I had able-bodied assistants.”

“Consider trying it again and see if the power chair helps when no one else is there to pitch in.”

“I may well do that, Ian. I’d like to make at least one more homemade dessert for the group before the babies arrive and I’m no longer eligible to participate in MOPS.”

The teen was saddened by his mentor’s statement. It was accurate— the twins would be born soon, and he wouldn’t be a pregnant omega anymore. “Jim?” he spoke, looking to the dark-eyed Irishman while they were stopped at a red light. “I’m going to miss the hell out of you. When you’re gone from the meetings, it won’t be the same.”

Moriarty smiled warmly at the youth. “I understand. But you’ll still see me.”

“Eventually, I guess. I imagine your paternity leave will go on for a stretch.”

“I don’t just mean see me at work, dear. You’re a friend, and in case my baby shower turnout wasn’t a tipoff, I don’t exactly have a surplus of those. I fully intend to keep you around,” he assured. “And lest you forget, our children are going to be buddies. Can’t set up playdates if we don’t stay close ourselves.”

Ian’s expression was hopeful. “I’d quite like that. Tilly would enjoy it as well.”

“It’s settled, then. We dare not disappoint your little girl,” he declared with a wink.

BZZ. BZZ.

Jim’s phone began to buzz. He pulled out his mobile device and saw that he’d received a text message from Seb.

_SM_

_I’m sorry for what I said, honey. I didn’t mean to disparage you. I just want to protect you._

 

_JM_

_I know, Tiger. I’m sorry, too. I overreacted._

 

_SM_

_So…are we good?_

 

_JM_

_We’re great._

_Come outside and I’ll have Ian swing by the house to pick you up._

 

_SM_

_Really?_

 

_JM_

_Yes. And bring my coat and gloves._

 

_SM_

_Jimmy?_

 

_JM_

_Yeah?_

 

_SM_

_I love you._

 

_JM_

_Love you more. Always and forever, my sweet soldier._

 

Forever, indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	95. Vultures Circling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian’s stalkers have been up to no good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

It was mid-morning when Seb arrived at headquarters. Though not on-site as often these days, he did make a point of coming in at least once a week. His office staff appeared pleased to see him, and the feeling was mutual.  

One thing he hated about having a sporadic schedule was the amount of mail that piled up in his absence. Yes, there were people assigned to sort through HQ postal deliveries, but if the name of the recipient was ‘James Moriarty’ or ‘Sebastian Moran,’ no one dared open them. Instead, such items were collected by Suzy, Jim’s longtime secretary, and then given to Seb when he checked in.

Moran entered his office, shutting the door as he prepared to examine the latest bundle of mail.

_Bill. Bill. Magazine. Bill._

So far, it was a fairly mundane assortment.

_Credit card application._

_Ha,_ the sniper thought. Jim already owned every credit card under the sun, most of them featuring the kind of spending limits only afforded to celebrities, royalty, and tycoons.

_Travel brochure._

_Interesting._ It was an advertisement promoting various romantic getaways for a special Valentine’s Day discount rate.

 _Valentine’s Day._ With everything going on of late, Seb had completely forgotten about the impending holiday. Even stranger was the fact that his Magpie hadn’t brought it up, either. Since marrying, Jim always made sure to celebrate the occasion— usually opting to take a luxurious trip. Last year, it was two decadent days in Aruba where they drank, dined, surfed, and fed each other juicy mangoes on the beach after making love under the veil of a starlit sky.

 _Now he can’t jet off to an exotic destination._ Maybe that was why the mastermind hadn’t mentioned it— he knew he was barred from flying until the twins were born.

But still, that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy Valentine’s Day right there in London. There was plenty for them to do in the city. The more Seb thought about it, the more he wanted to arrange the perfect night out. They could have dinner someplace chic and then take in a show. Perhaps an orchestral concert or a production on the West End. If Jim felt up to it, they might even be able to go on a horse-drawn carriage ride through the park.

The blonde smiled, pleased at the idea of giving his husband an evening to remember. He’d start making calls today to set things in motion.

With that decided, he resumed sifting through the mail. It was a tedious process and he could imagine how much Moriarty would loathe the task. Luckily, Moran had a bit more patience than his other half.      

“Hmm,” he muttered, finding an envelope that bore his name, but included no return address. Naturally, he was suspicious. Past experience told him that unmarked mailings of any kind were a bad thing. He was hesitant to open it, but if he didn’t, he’d never know what was inside.

Bracing for the worst, he tore into the envelope…and it was empty.

Well, almost empty. Its sole contents were a flash drive with a note attached. _‘Watch me,’_ it read.    

Seb got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Whatever was on that USB stick couldn’t be good. To watch or not to watch? It was a burdensome decision.  

Ultimately, he knew what he had to do. Colonel Sebastian Moran would be intimidated by nothing.

The assassin inserted the small device into his computer and quickly discovered that it contained a series of untitled video files. He hovered his cursor over the first item, contemplating what he was about to do. Once he clicked ‘play,’ there’d be no going back. No unseeing the images his stalkers saw fit to taunt him with. Despite this, he soldiered on.

When the video began, Seb tried to understand what was on screen. It took a few seconds to decipher because the footage was shaky and low-grade— obviously shot using a cell phone camera. The motion eventually steadied and he recognized the location. It was the food court of an upscale shopping plaza Jim frequented. They’d gone there many times together, as recently as last week.

The picture zoomed in on one table in particular. To Sebastian’s horror, he was confronted by his own visage. More than that, his spouse was there, too. In a candid moment, the two were shown chatting and laughing while sharing a gooey cinnamon bun.

“Bloody hell.” The sniper clearly recalled that day. There was a sale going on at a baby goods store, and Jim wanted to buy their little ones snow boots. He had no intention of exposing them to inclement weather, but sought to ensure that their feet would stay warm throughout the remaining winter season.

Once the video was done, he moved on to the next. It was more low-resolution footage, this time depicting the couple as they entered Dr. Swenson’s office building. The camera continued to film them through a window pane while they sat in the waiting room.

Another video was just Seb at a supermarket, picking up miscellaneous odds and ends. That became a running theme— snippets of them doing random things without any real setup or context. And it wasn’t limited to London’s most dangerous men. No, the files also captured select individuals who were associated with the pair. Highlights included Ian riding on his former bus route, Dr. Swenson exiting a car and going inside what was presumably her house, and perhaps most disturbing of all, MOPS group members as they milled around the community center halls during a mid-meeting intermission.

“Fuck.” Moran shuddered at the stark realization that he and many others were being watched, recently and with regularity. He could convert his private residence into a fortress, but in public, all bets were off. The helplessness he felt made him want to destroy something…or _someone._  

 _Colin and Annie._ This had to be their handiwork. Sebastian was not prone to hurting women, but under the circumstance, an exception could be made. He yearned to gut them both.

The alpha growled and grabbed his jacket. He’d be returning home sooner than expected. Jim needed to see what was on the flash drive.

*********

“Is she gone?” a female voice asked. It was Annie, peaking around the doorway of the living room.

“Yeah,” Colin answered. “The takeout joint’s halfway across the city, and she’s planning to stop for gas, too. It should be a while until she gets back.”

“Thank god. That bitch is creepy as hell. Loonier than the patients she tends to.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” he conceded. Colin realized early on that nursing assistant Katherine Ramsey wasn’t playing with a full deck, but it had worked to his advantage, making her easier to manipulate. She’d fallen hook, line, and sinker for his lies, helping him every step of the way. Now she was even allowing him and his sister-in-law to hide out at her bungalow.  

“I wish we could’ve stayed longer at my parents’ house,” Annie lamented. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have minded.”

“No, but I would’ve.” He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with the strike of a match. “We’ve got business to attend to here in London. It’s important that we don’t lose sight of the mission.”

The flaxen-haired woman snorted derisively. “You keep saying ‘we,’ as if we’re doing equal work. But really, I’m the one who has to go out every day in disguise, busting my arse trying to follow people without being noticed. It’s not as easy as you think.”

Colin glared at her sharply. “Funny, I thought you might enjoy having an opportunity to stretch your acting skills. If you don’t feel they’re up to par—”

“It’s not my acting that’s the problem,” she was quick to refute. “I’m finely trained and damn convincing. The problem is gallivanting all over the city, with the expectation of recording incognito. The logistics are ridiculous, if not impossible, to carry out on my own.”

“And what, exactly, do you propose I do about that, Annelise? I’m on the lam. I can’t serve as a spy— if the authorities find me, the whole jig will be up. I haven’t come this far just to throw everything away in the final round. I’m seeing it through to the end.”

She sighed. “I know. I’m frustrated, is all. Nothing’s panned out the way I hoped it would. Hell, I’m still raw about what happened at the Christmas party.”

“That was a month ago, Annie. Suck it up already.”

If looks could kill, Colin would’ve been a dead man. “Suck it up?” she protested, her tone volatile. “I was nearly stuck with a syringe and choked to death that night.”

“ _‘Nearly’_ being the key word. You didn’t die. You were able to escape. It’s time to move along and focus on the bigger picture.”

“Believe me, I’m trying.”

Colin was silent for a moment. He flashed the woman a slightly unnerving smile and patted the seat next to him, encouraging her over. She obeyed.

“Have a smoke,” he said, offering a cigarette from his pack.

“Okay.” Annie accepted the item and used the burning tip of his stick to light her own. She inhaled deeply, savoring the mentholated flavor.

“I get that you’re restless,” he spoke. “But once Jim pops out those babies, we can initialize the endgame. Until then, we have fun.”

“They’ve got armed guards surrounding their house, Colin. At this rate, how much ‘fun’ can we realistically have?”

“Lots. We know their pressure points. With those in mind, there’s no limit to the hell we can put them through.”   

“I guess so,” she tentatively agreed. “Wonder if they’ve seen the latest ‘gift’ we sent?”

“I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that screening.”

“Me too.”

The man took a long drag off his cigarette, flicking the ashes into an empty beer can. “I say we go after those close to them. Rattle them right and proper.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yes. I’ve got ample ideas up my sleeve,” he declared. “If we’re lucky, maybe the stress will send Moriarty into early labor.”

She smirked. “That’d be a delightful bonus. Imagine how much it would upset Sebastian.”

“Precisely.”

Colin and Annie continued to talk, discussing their poisonous plans while they waited for Katherine to return home with dinner. The days to come would be interesting— they’d make damn sure of it.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	96. Something Wicked This Way Comes – Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian fear for a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian was worried. It was nearly 2 p.m. and Jim still hadn’t gotten out of bed. The consulting criminal did tire more easily these days, but even so, he rarely slept past noon, let alone into the mid-afternoon.

 _Maybe stress is to blame,_ Moran mused. When he showed his husband the flash drive files their stalkers had sent, the omega went into panic mode. Eventually, he calmed down enough to call everyone featured in the videos, cautioning them to stay safe and remain alert. Unfortunately, he didn’t feel like his warning was taken seriously by some. Since then, he’d seemed very much on edge. Seb feared his mate might be falling into a depression.

The sniper decided to check on him. He entered their bedroom and smiled at the sight of Jim cozily wrapped up in the comforter. Sitting down beside him, Sebastian gently nudged his spouse.     

“Magpie? It’s almost 2 o’clock.”

Moriarty grunted and rolled over, staring at the blonde with a pained look in his eyes. Suddenly, Seb had an overwhelming urge to hold him close and soothe away his troubles.

“I’m awake,” he said. “It hurts too much to get out of bed and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Kitten, you’re never a bother. If something’s upsetting you, I’m always available to listen.” He reached out to stroke his beloved’s cheek, noting the slight amount of stubble that had grown. The assassin found it quite appealing.

“Darling, I think you’ve misunderstood.”

Seb cocked his head in confusion. “How so?”

“I _am_ upset about a few things, yes. But when I say it hurts, I mean that in the literal sense. My body aches.”     

“What can I do to help?” It saddened him to see his partner ailing in any way, shape, or form.

“Not much, really. The only surefire cure is to give birth. The same is true for my high blood pressure and arrhythmia. Once the twins are delivered, I should return to normal health.”

 _My poor Magpie._ He put himself through hell for their children. Carrying them was an entirely selfless endeavor that Sebastian wasn’t certain he could handle if the situation were reversed.

“How about I bring you something to eat? Afterward, we can spend a bit of quality time together.”

“Sounds lovely,” the genius replied. “Be a dear and help me into my chair before you go. I need to stop by the bathroom.”

“Okay, although I could probably just sweep you off your feet and march you in there myself.”

“Sebby? While I appreciate your assistance, there are some things a person ought to do on their own if possible. Using the loo is one such activity.”

“Yeah, you’re right. That was a dumb suggestion.”

“I thought it was rather adooorable. You’re a dutiful caregiver, my sweet.”  

“Thanks, hon. I try my best.”

Moran carefully maneuvered the Irishman into his wheelchair. He was a tad heavier than he used to be, but nothing Seb couldn’t manage.

“Set a place at the kitchen table,” the mastermind instructed. “I’ll dine downstairs.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jim gazed lovingly at his husband as the man exited the room. Even though they’d been together for years, he still marveled at Sebastian’s stalwart dedication. He was the one constant in his life, tried-and-true no matter what the situation. To have an alpha like him was a blessing he’d come to cherish each day.  

*********

“Tiger, that was delicious. But if I eat any more, I may explode.”

The blonde grinned broadly, pleased by the resounding approval his beef stew had received. “Glad you enjoyed it. I got the recipe from Severin. It’s a dish Paige often makes.”

“Oh? How’s the family doing? I’m afraid I’ve been remiss in keeping up with my email correspondence.”

“They’re very well. They recently adopted a Pomeranian at Penelope’s behest. She named the pup Calpurnia— ‘Callie’ for short.”

“Calpurnia, aye? I’d have saved that moniker for a cat, but it’s cute, nonetheless. Have they sent any photos?”

“Actually, yes. Check your inbox,” he advised. “I’m positive your address was attached to the mailing.”

Jim decided to do just that. When he turned on his phone, he was greeted to something unexpected. Apparently, Ian had sent him several texts earlier in the day that he hadn’t been aware of until now. They were a series of short, choppy sentences directing him to get in touch.

“Something’s going on with Ian,” he spoke, apprising his mate of the missed messages. “I’ll call and find out what’s happening.”

The phone rang and rang, but no one picked up.

“He’s not answering.”

Seb abruptly turned white as a sheet, all color draining form his face.

“What is it, Tiger? Do you know something I don’t?” The consulting criminal was truly unnerved.

“No, it’s just…” he hesitated, his voice haunted in a way that made Moriarty’s blood run cold.

“It’s just what? Spit it out.”

“Before Marie was murdered, she sent me a text saying we needed to talk. But she never responded to my messages or calls after that. We both know why.”

Jim was panic-stricken. He preemptively tore off his blood pressure monitor and stood up from the table, shaking like a leaf.

“Honey—”

“We’ve got to get to his flat NOW.”

The former colonel nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

At that, the couple made haste. To expedite matters, Seb carried his spouse to the car, shoving past the hired guns who guarded their house. This was a mission of life or death, and he simply didn’t have time to stop and explain.   

*********

When Jim and Sebastian arrived at Ian’s loft, they buzzed the doorbell repeatedly but got no response. Luckily, being the property owner, Moriarty had a key. They accessed the building and rode the lift up to his unit.

“Ian?” Jim called out, hoping against hope that his protégé would answer.

Moran moved quicker than his mate and was able to conduct a walkthrough with relative ease. He gingerly approached the mastermind to report his findings.

“He isn’t here.”

“Are you absolutely certain?”

“Yeah. There’s no trace of him.”

Moriarty was momentarily speechless. It was a huge relief to know that Ian hadn’t been butchered like Marie. His whereabouts remained unaccounted for, though. He could still be in peril.

“Do you want to stay here and wait for him to return?” the sniper asked.

“Yes,” he uttered without a second thought. “I do.”

And so they would.

 

 

An hour went by as Jim and Seb hung out in Ian’s empty apartment. The Irishman was on pins and needles, pacing the living room while holding his back in obvious pain. Moran wished his partner would sit down— it was terribly disconcerting to watch him wince with every step. He was a hairsbreadth away from pulling alpha rank and demanding that Jim get off his feet, when suddenly, the sound of a car door slamming caught both their attention.

The pair looked out the window, baffled by what they saw. A constable was escorting Ian from a police vehicle into the building.

“What the fuck?” Seb wondered aloud.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

All they could do was wait for him to reach the flat and then proceed from there.

The lift opened up to his apartment, and in walked Ian and a Metro PD officer. Immediately, the cop cast the duo a stern expression.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but what are you doing in this young man’s home?”

“They’re friends of mine,” the teen rushed to reply. The less interaction Jim and Seb had with the authorities, the better.

“Oh? You said no one would be here. It’s why you requested a formal escort to walk you inside.”

“I didn’t realize they were coming. I assure you, I’m safe with them.”

The middle-aged constable paused, sizing up London’s most dangerous men. “You look familiar,” he remarked, staring straight at Jim.

“I get that a lot,” Moriarty coolly declared. “People on the Tube are alwaaaays stopping me to say how much I resemble some bloke from _Eastenders_. I don’t watch daytime telly, but I reckon he must be a popular character.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

The consulting criminal sported a disarming smile. “There are worse folks out there to look like, I suppose. If I had my druthers, though, I’d prefer it be someone a wee bit more handsome.”

Ian let out a nervous laugh. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re plenty handsome.”

“You’re too kind, dear.”

The officer soon decided he’d spent enough time there. “I’d best be going, Mr. Fitzgerald. We’ll keep you posted if any new information comes in.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

Once the man left, Jim promptly embraced his fellow omega. “God, I’ve been worried out of my mind. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“I had it turned off at the police station.”

“Which raises another question— what were you doing there?”

“It’s…I…” the youth struggled to get the words out. “Someone trashed my car.”

Moriarty was shocked, gasping at the news. This was Ian’s first ever vehicle, and Colin and Annie— because it _had_ to be them— went ahead and fucking ruined it. They couldn’t even allow him to have one good thing. He seethed with outrage.  

Sebastian growled, equally incensed. Ian was a sweet kid who’d been through enough hell in his short 19-years to last a lifetime. He didn’t deserve another kick in the teeth, but here it was. 

“They didn’t just bust it up,” he continued. “They…”

“You can tell us, hon. It’s okay,” Jim encouraged.

Tears filled the teen’s eyes as he tried to find his voice. “There were horrible slurs written all over it. Really vicious, anti-male omega stuff.”

“Oh god.” The genius’s black heart shattered. He flashed back to the night of his husband’s party, when he discovered cruel graffiti scrawled across the bathroom. It was a demoralizing experience he’d never wish upon anyone, and now Ian was being made to suffer the same.

“I need to sit down,” the young man said with a sob.

“Good idea,” Seb agreed. It was an opportunity to finally get Jim off his feet. 

The conversation resumed from the comfort of the couch.

“I know you’re upset, but could you please give us a rundown of how these events transpired today?”

Ian nodded at his friend and mentor. “I got up to go to headquarters, and when I went outside, my car was in shambles. The windows were broken, tires slashed, and awful things were scribbled everywhere.” He took a deep breath, attempting to steady himself. “I got so sad and scared when I saw it. At first, I was terrified that Luke had found my new address and he’d done it. Then I remembered it could’ve been the work of your stalkers. Either way, I freaked out and called the police.”

“What exactly did you tell them?” Jim wanted to assess if damage control would be necessary.

“The basics, mostly. It was pretty straightforward,” he stated. “They did ask if I knew anyone who might be capable of perpetrating the vandalism, but I said no.”

“Good boy. We don’t deal with authorities. We cut out the middleman and handle situations ourselves.”

“Jim’s right,” Sebastian weighed in. “You were smart not to give them too much info.”

The couple’s reassurance did little to appease Ian’s distraught mood. He cried openly, the floodgates showing no signs of stopping. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he bleated. “The car wasn’t just for me. It was for Matilda, too. I can’t keep using public transportation with a baby.”

Moriarty and Moran exchanged a somber glance. Hardened as they were, neither could deny the injustice of what had occurred. A part of them felt at least somewhat responsible for dragging the boy into their ongoing personal drama.

“Tomorrow we’ll go to the dealership and I’ll buy you a replacement.”

Ian’s red-rimmed eyes widened in surprise. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” Jim pointed out. “I’m doing it of my own accord. So call the dealership and tell them you’ll be returning with a friend to make a repeat purchase.”

Flabbergasted, the young man turned to Seb as if expecting him to lend advice.

“Don’t look at me,” the sniper remarked. “Once he’s got an idea in his head, there’s no use fighting it.”

“You’ve already given me so much. I feel a bit guilty about accepting yet another handout.”

“Hush. I’m a wealthy man. You needn’t feel guilty in the slightest.”

“Well…okay. I’ll make the arrangements,” he conceded. “Thank you again. One of these days, I promise I’ll find a way to repay you.”

“I require no recompense, dear.”

In the course of his adult life, Jim never desired to help anyone beyond Seb and himself. Somehow, though, he’d felt strangely protective of Ian from the outset. Their similar backgrounds had connected them in a way he’d not anticipated, and contributing to the teen’s betterment proved thoroughly rewarding.

“Jim? I’ve got a question.”

“What’s that?”

“When I get the replacement vehicle, how will we prevent it from being vandalized like the original was?”

“I’ll send a few guards to watch over the property. As the owner of the building, I can assign whatever security I so choose.”

“Sounds good. Living alone, it will be a relief to know someone’s there to defend me.”

True to his word, the mastermind really would delegate a handful of his home-based mercenaries to look out for Ian. And that night, the young man would sleep better than he had in ages.       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	97. Something Wicked This Way Comes – Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble befalls those around Jim and Seb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

It was a lazy day for Jim and Sebastian. There were no conference calls on the schedule, nor were there any major issues at headquarters. Things were so slow, in fact, that they spent a majority of the afternoon snuggling on the sofa, streaming movies.

The clock crept up on them, and by early evening, they had a bit more to do. Taking Ian’s advice, the consulting criminal decided to try baking alone while using his motorized chair. Moran offered to help, but Jim refused assistance. It was imperative that he work by himself so he could gauge the state of his abilities.

Meanwhile, Seb sat in the living room watching tv. To an unassuming individual, it may have appeared he was merely lounging around, but this was not true. He had a purpose. Moriarty appointed him as the official taste tester for his baking endeavors, and expressly instructed him to stay put so that he could easily be found when needed. 

VRR. VRR. VRR.

The sniper bolted up from his reclining position when he heard the familiar sound of Jim’s power chair.

“Sebbbby! Time to play guinea pig.” A devilish gleam danced in his eyes as he approached with two plates balanced on his lap.

“What’ve you got there?” Moran asked, eager to nosh on some sweets.

“Strawberry shortcake bars and chocolate chip mini muffins. Both are fairly simple recipes. I thought it best to pace myself.”   

“Makes sense. How did it go?”

“Honestly? Better than expected. When I made cookies over the holiday, I thought it went okay because I had two other people pitching in. Turns out I can manage just fine on my own. Also, I’ve become more adept at using this chair since then,” he noted. “Now, less chatting and more eating. If these batches are good, I’ll bring them to tonight’s meeting.”

“Yes, sir.” Without further ado, he sampled the treats. An exaggerated look of pleasure eclipsed his face as he made a show of savoring each bite.

“Tiger, darling? Don’t be a doofus. Just tell me what you think.”

“I’m trying to, kitten. These are what you might call ‘visual cues.’”

Moriarty arched a brow. “Oh reeeeeally? Here I assumed you were suffering an unfortunate bout of muscle spasms.”

“Nah, those only occur when I attempt to eat marmite.”

The comment elicited a small smile from Jim, and in an instant, Seb was taken aback by how lovely his husband looked. Happiness quite suited him.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” the mastermind inquired.

“Because you’re so handsome, I can’t take my eyes off you.”

“I…well…oh bollocks.”

It was rare to render James Moriarty tongue-tied. Harder still, to make him blush. Somehow, though, Sebastian could do both.

“Your shortcake bars and muffins are delectable, Magpie. The same goes for you, too.”

Their gazes locked and a contented coo escaped Jim’s lips. The assassin lived for those sweet, dulcet sounds of omega bliss.

“Sit with me, honey. I’m watching the news.”

He obliged, moving from his mobility chair to the seat cushion beside Seb. Similar to earlier in the day, he cozied up to his mate, resting his head on the larger man’s shoulder.

An advertisement came on tv, promoting a Valentine’s Day jewelry sale. It got Moran thinking about the plans he’d organized for the amorous occasion. Everything was set— the dinner reservations, theater tickets, and carriage ride. It would be a magical night.

“I wish the babies could be here for Valentine’s Day,” Jim said. “They’d be the best gift of all.”     

Sebastian wrapped an arm around his spouse. “You won’t have to wait much longer, sweetheart. February 24th is nearly at hand.” He paused, a question coming to mind. “Have you got your hospital bag packed yet?”

“Of course I’ve got my bag ready,” he replied, slightly annoyed that Seb would doubt him. “I started putting it together months ago.”

The blonde grinned. “This is so exciting.”

“It really is,” Moriarty agreed, beaming as he spoke. “A bit scary, too, with the surgery and all. But I’m trying to focus on the positive— by the end of it, I’ll finally get to meet our children. Right now, there’s nothing I want more.”

“Me either.”

London’s most dangerous men were indisputably drunk on love. The two of them sat there, nestled close and bearing matching joyful expressions. They were so transfixed in the moment, they almost missed the breaking news story that was being reported in full-color on their widescreen tv.

_This morning, emergency services were called to the scene of a house fire in the west end district. Authorities described the incident as an ‘inferno,’ noting that the residence was entirely engulfed in flames, resulting in significant property damage. Sources confirmed the homeowner as renowned obstetrics specialist Julia Swenson. She was able to escape the blaze with only minor injuries. The cause of the fire has not yet been released, but officials say an investigation is pending._

Jim and Seb were totally and utterly aghast. Was this a terrible accident or something far more sinister?

“Tiger, do you think…”

“Yes.”

Silence fell over the couple as they struggled to process the horrifying development. First Ian’s car was trashed, and now Dr. Swenson’s home was burned to the ground. Both people were featured on the stalker footage they’d recently been sent— it couldn’t be a coincidence.

The consulting criminal stood up in a daze, his mind buzzing with abandon. He was clammy and jittering, and it felt like the room was about to swallow him whole. When his blood pressure monitor inevitably triggered, he threw the device to the ground and stomped it repeatedly.

“Jim!” the sniper exclaimed, also rising from the couch. “I know this is a disturbing turn of events, but please try to remain calm. Getting so upset isn’t good for you or the babies.”

“Calm? CALM?” he shouted. “How the fuck do you expect me to be calm when Colin and Annie are systematically targeting our friends and acquaintances?! This is a bloody nightmare!”

“It’s a bad situation, for sure. But this is what they want. They’re trying to scare us,” Sebastian asserted. “We’ve done the same to others. It’s a textbook intimidation method.”

Moriarty’s anxiety refused to abate. Like a frightened animal, his eyes darted wildly in every direction.   

_He’s going to have a goddamn meltdown,_ Seb thought. _I’ve got to do something._

“Take deep breaths, kitten. In and out, nice and steady,” the blonde advised. He motioned to grasp his partner’s hand, but was rebuffed when Jim abruptly backed away. “Honey, please. It’ll be okay.”

The genius shook his head furiously. “No, it won’t! You’re intelligent, Seb. Surely you see the pattern here. Those fucking psychopaths are attacking the people they filmed, and they’ve already checked Ian and Dr. Swenson off the list. Do you realize what that means? Supposing the trend continues, either you and me or my MOPS group will be next.”

Sebastian didn’t know what to say. He had indeed observed the pattern and was duly unnerved by it.     

“I can’t abide them harming group members. They’re a fine bunch of blokes who are having babies and just want to connect with others going through the same thing,” Moriarty declared. “Life can be rough for male omegas, but the support community has made it feel less lonely. They welcomed me even after recognizing who I was. Not everyone would do that,” he noted. “I won’t allow them to be hurt.”

“I understand, love. I just don’t know what else can be done to protect them. You already called members to warn them of the stalker footage, including the coordinator. They’ve been apprised of the potential risk.”

Jim’s face scrunched up in frustration and he sighed. “There’s got to be more we can do. I refuse to let them be sitting ducks for a pair of vengeful lunatics to pick off.”

“If it’s any consolation, remember that I’ll be in the lobby during your meeting tonight. Should Colin or Annie make a cameo appearance, they’ll have to get through me.”

“That does help,” he admitted.  

Seb stepped closer to his mate, again reaching for the man’s hand. This time he didn’t pull away.

“I’ll watch for suspicious activity. If something seems strange, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Thank you, darling.”

The couple’s fingers entwined as Jim slowly returned to a clearer state of mind. Now, more than ever, he would need to keep his wits about him. The question was, could he manage it?

*********

“These strawberry shortcake bars are amazing,” Ian remarked.

“The muffins are tasty, too,” Simon added.

Moriarty smiled. “Glad you’re enjoying them, gentlemen.” 

The MOPS group was in the midst of an intermission and everyone was thrilled that Jim had brought homemade treats again. The compliments from his fellow omegas were a nice ego boost, but he was especially touched by the praises of a non-member in their presence tonight: Jack’s son, Reginald. For a second time, he’d brought the nearly two-year-old boy along to the meeting because he couldn’t find a babysitter. Nobody was bothered by it, though— the precocious toddler was actually quite popular amongst the crowd.

When Jack decided to come over and sit with Jim and some of the others, Reggie barreled ahead of him, running straight into the mastermind’s knee. He wasn’t hurt, but he did sport a look of surprise.

“Sowwy, Jim,” a tiny voice squeaked.

“It’s all right, dear. Accidents happen,” he reassured. “I’m impressed that you remember my name.”

“He’s an extremely gifted child,” Jack bragged. “Takes after my husband. Gary was educated at Harvard and Oxford, respectively. Smart as a whip, he is.”     

“Can hav mow cookies?” Reggie asked.

“I don’t see why not. You’ve been such a good boy tonight.”

“Fank yu, mumma! Wuv mumma!” The tot cheerfully scampered back to the refreshments table.

“Oh, he’s adoooorable,” Moriarty enthused. “Even cuter than the last time you brought him.” 

The man smiled. “My little lad does seem to get more precious by the day, though I may be biased.”

“Hey, Jack?” Scott spoke, chiming in on the conversation. “Why do you have him call you ‘mum?’”

“Because I carried him for nine months. He’s my son and I’m his mother. It’s as simple as that.”

“I know, but doesn’t it feel weird to use such a feminine term?”

“No, it doesn’t feel ‘weird’ to me in the slightest.”

“I appreciate the straightforward approach you take to it,” Simon commented. “It’s refreshing.”

“Well, what about you, Jim?” Scott asked. “Your babies will be here soon. What do you plan to have them call you?”

All eyes were on the consulting criminal as his peers awaited an answer.  

“I’ve always identified myself as ‘Daddy’ when talking to them,” he stated. “I didn’t give it a second thought until now. Is there something wrong with that?”

“Absolutely not. Ours is a unique experience,” Jack said, referring to their status as male omegas. “To be both a man and a mother is an uncommon combination. The language we choose to use is very personal. You’re well within your right to have your children call you ‘daddy,’ just as I’m justified in having mine say ‘mummy.’ One term isn’t necessarily better than the other.”

“Interesting food for thought,” Moriarty replied. There was a time not so long ago when he would’ve scoffed at the idea of gaining insight from ‘ordinary’ people, but since participating in MOPS, he was amazed at how wise they could be.

Reggie returned, skipping up to Jack with a strawberry shortcake bar in each hand. He gave one to his parent. “Fow yu, mumma.”   

“Thank you, sweetie. You’re so thoughtful.”

Jim smiled at the heartwarming exchange. He hoped that he would have a relationship like that with his twins. These days, he liked to believe anything was possible.

*********

Sebastian sat in the lobby of the community center, paging through a magazine. He would’ve brought a book with him, but he didn’t want to become too engrossed in what he was reading— he needed to stay alert to his surroundings.

Things had seemed pretty normal up to that point, and he was about to write the night off as mercifully mundane. _Was_ being the key word.  

Moran suddenly heard the sound of tires screeching to a halt outside. He stood up and walked to the door to see what was going on.

The sniper’s eyes immediately went wide. There was an armored vehicle parked directly in front of the building, and a Specialist Firearms Command unit was rapidly filing out.

“Holy shit,” he muttered. They didn’t send the SCO19 out for nothing— it was basically the Metro PD’s equivalent of a SWAT team.  

Before he knew what was happening, the men came charging into the community center dressed in full combat regalia. Seb was shoved aside amidst the mad stampede.

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. He needed to contact Jim ASAP.

Whipping out his phone, he rushed to send a text.

_SM_

_Get out of the building NOW. No time to explain. Just GO._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby Talk Translation, in case anyone wasn't sure what Reggie said:
> 
> "Sowwy, Jim" = Sorry, Jim
> 
> “Can hav mow cookies?” = Can I have more cookies?
> 
> “Fank yu, mumma! Wuv mumma!” = Thank you, mama! Love mama!
> 
> “Fow yu, mumma” = For you, mama


	98. Something Wicked This Way Comes – Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pandemonium ensues at Jim’s group meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

The MOPS meeting was still having its intermission when Jim felt his babies shift in a major way. This was notable because their movements had recently become more constricted due to lack of space. Right now, though, he could _definitely_ feel them.

When he placed a hand on his stomach, he observed a slight bulge. Curious, he discretely lifted the midriff of his shirt to get a look at what was going on. The mastermind gasped as he saw a moving protrusion from beneath his skin. It was a bit like something out of the _‘Alien’_ movies.

“Yu tummy movin!” Reggie exclaimed, catching sight of the event.

Once attention was drawn to him, many group members swarmed in for closer inspection.

Trevor, the coordinator, smiled. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

Jim stared at the man, his expression indescribable. “Is this normal?”

He chuckled. “Oh, yes, most assuredly. There’s no cause for alarm.”

“Are you certain? Because I’ve never been able to literally _see_ them kick before.”

“You’ve never been this far along until now,” he pointed out. “You’re due at the end of the month, meaning those babies are nearly the size of actual newborns. When they move, you’ll know about it.”

“It’s true,” Jack confirmed. “Towards the end of my pregnancy with Reggie, I could sometimes make out the shape of his foot when he kicked. It was rather surreal.”

BZZ. BZZ.

Moriarty’s phone began to buzz, and instantly, his heart leapt into his throat. Seb had promised to contact him if something suspicious was afoot. Knowing that, he was almost afraid to read the message. Almost.

_SM_

_Get out of the building NOW. No time to explain. Just GO._

He paled at the warning. He could make a break for it, yes. But what about the others in the group— what would become of them? And what would happen to Jack’s little boy? Jim was experiencing an exceedingly rare attack of conscience.

 _Listen to your alpha,_ a voice inside him said. It was as if he had a sixth sense that something awful would occur if he didn’t heed his mate’s instruction.

“Pardon me, gentlemen, but I require a quick trip to the loo.” Using the bathroom break as a cover story, he was about to wheel away, when suddenly, all hell broke loose.  

BAM.

The door to the meeting room was kicked open and the Specialist Firearms Command unit stormed in. Everyone was taken completely off guard as the nightmare began.

“GET ON THE GROUND!” an armed officer demanded. “On the ground NOW! Hands behind your heads!”

Those present struggled to comply. It wasn’t easy to get on one’s knees while in the throes of mid-late pregnancy, which several MOPS participants were.

“What’s this about?” Trevor asked, kneeling down as directed. “Whatever’s going on, we can talk it out.”

“Shut up!” was all he received in reply.

Another officer turned his attention to Jim. “Out of the chair and on the ground!” he barked.

“Give me a minute,” the genius spoke, trying to maneuver as safely as possible. 

Apparently, Moriarty wasn’t moving fast enough for him. “Not in a minute! Now!” He seized the smaller man by the arm and forcibly pulled him from the wheelchair, throwing him to the tile floor.

Jim looked up at the brutish bastard, wide-eyed and irate. “You’re going to regret that.”

“Shut your mouth.”

Seething with contempt, he looked around the room and observed the pandemonium breaking loose. Amid the chaos, guns were drawn on many panic-stricken omegas. Meanwhile, other SCO19 enforcers ransacked the room as if searching for something. They tore apart bookcases, storage cabinets, and worst of all, people’s personal belongings.

Jack took exception when his diaper bag was emptied onto the ground. “Hey! The only thing you’ll find in there are nappies, Goldfish crackers, and a few of my son’s stuffed toys!”

Speaking of Reggie, the little boy was wailing in absolute terror. His cries reached a fever pitch when one of the officers snatched up a teddy bear from the bag’s spilled contents and proceeded to rip its head off, checking to see if anything was stashed inside the doll.

“Nuuuuuuu! Why huwt JoJo?! Wuv JoJo!”

That was the final straw.

Jack brazenly defied their orders by holding his child close and rocking him in his arms. “It’s okay, honey. Mummy’s here. When we go home, I’ll fix JoJo. He’ll be good as new.”

“Put the infant down and get back in position!”

“No! How dare you treat us like this,” he countered. “Do you know who my husband is? Sir Gary Norridge, a Queen’s Counsel barrister. I assure you he’ll be made aware of this incident and action will be swiftly taken against the Metropolitan Police Department.”

The omega’s audacious statement actually seemed to slow down a few of the officers. One of them approached, crouching to speak with him as he continued to comfort his distraught son.

“Excuse me, but did you say that your spouse is a QC?”

“Yes. Sir Gary Norridge. Look him up if you don’t believe me.”

“This can’t be right,” the cop said in a hushed tone, his demeanor markedly deflating.

At that moment, someone else appeared in the doorway. It was Sebastian.

“Jim!” The sniper rushed to Moriarty’s side. “I’d hoped you got out, but decided to follow behind the squadron just in case.” He stopped to take in the scene around him, quickly realizing how wrong the situation seemed. “What the hell is going on?”

“You,” an armed commander addressed, marching up to Moran. “Who gave you permission to enter this room? This is a suspected zone of terroristic activity. All non-law enforcement personnel are forbidden from admittance until we complete a sweep.”     

“Terroristic activity?” the consulting criminal repeated incredulously. “This is a pregnancy support group, for Christ’s sake!”

“No talking,” he sharply reprimanded.

“Oh, sod off. This ‘raid’ you’re conducting is an embarrassment to the police force.”

The officer glared at him. “We’ll see about that.”

“Where did you get the idea that there was terrorism going on here?” Seb prodded. The notion was preposterous.

“Our sources are confidential.”

“Your sources must be three sheets to the wind, and maybe you are, too, if you believe them.”

“Unless you want to be held as a person of interest, I suggest you quit running your mouth and let us do our job,” the man said with a huff.

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Moran remarked. “You’ve clearly been sent on a wild-goose chase. I’m simply trying to spare you from appearing foolish.”

The enforcer was fed up listening to Seb. He walked away, choosing to end the conversation then and there.

“Are you okay?” the assassin whispered to his mate.

“I’m fine, no thanks to these power-hungry pricks,” Jim answered. “One of them threw me out of my chair and on to the floor.”

Sebastian growled. He had an intense desire to tear apart every SCO19 officer in the room.

“Easy, Tiger. We need to keep our voices low and figure out what’s going on.”

“Right.” He took a deep breath. Every instinct in his body was screaming to protect Jim.  

“I wager Colin and Annie orchestrated this,” the Irishman declared. “Called in a false report to the authorities.”

“I’d put nothing past them,” Seb agreed.

As the fruitless raid continued, the confidence of the command unit seemed to gradually decline. They’d entered with such bravado, but uncovered no evidence to show for themselves. Eventually, the team conferred with one another and contacted their superiors.  

After a fairly lengthy phone call, the man heading up the search elected to address the room. “It’s come to the Metro PD’s attention that the initial report we received was likely incorrect. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Inconvenience?” Moriarty spat. “You busted in here and terrorized a bunch of pregnant omegas and a sweet little boy. Your badges should be rescinded for a blunder like that.”

Many in the room supported Jim’s assessment, chiming in to express their solidarity.

Trevor stood up and approached the officer. “As the organizer of this group, I’d like to know what exactly you thought was going on here.”

“We were tipped off that MOPS was a front for a British nationalist faction, and that there might be explosive devices on site.”

“That’s outrageous,” the coordinator balked. “This could’ve been avoided if you’d just come to me to discuss the matter.”

“Again, we apologize for the disruption.”

Jack arose from the floor, still clutching his crying child in his arms. “You’ll be even sorrier tomorrow, when your department is slapped with a lawsuit and a formal inquiry is requested.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, sir. This was a regrettable misunderstanding.”

“You may not know what to say, but I do,” Jim interjected as Seb helped him to stand. “I think I speak for everyone when I insist that you get the hell out of here. You’ve done enough damage.”

“Very well. We should return to the station anyway, to meet with our director in person.” He looked to his unit and motioned for them to follow him out the door.

Once the men had finally gone, those in attendance could breathe a sigh of relief. Some remained badly rattled, though.

“God, that was horrible,” Ian said, wiping tears from his eyes. Several others did the same.

“Who would perpetrate a hoax against us?” Scott wondered aloud.

“Bigots, maybe?” Simon angrily speculated. 

Jim and Seb exchanged a knowing look. Should they share their thoughts on the subject? Ultimately, the mastermind decided it was better to speak up than stay silent.

“Remember when I called all of you to explain that my husband and I have stalkers who secretly recorded footage here at the community center?” People nodded, and Moriarty continued on. “Well, within the past few days they’ve targeted individuals who showed up on the recordings. I’m almost certain they were responsible for this.”

The room was abuzz at the bombshell revelation. It seemed that tonight held a wealth of surprises.    

“I’m incredibly sorry you’ve all been made to suffer because of me,” he stated, his voice breaking as he tried to hold himself together. “Nobody here deserves the wrath of those monsters.”

“It’s _not_ your fault,” Ian stressed. “Colin and Annie are deranged. You have no control over what they do.”

Scott raised his hand. “Jim? I’ve got a question.”

“Yes?”

“These people who are stalking you— what do they want? Why are they going to this much trouble?”

Before the genius could answer, his partner offered a response of his own. “Revenge,” Seb spoke, “for something that happened a long time ago.”

“Must be one hell of a grudge,” Simon quipped.

“Yeah,” the blonde grimly confirmed, “it is.”

A hush fell over the room as London’s most dangerous duo felt a shared sense of guilt, despite Ian’s attempt to convince them otherwise.

An idea sprang to Jim’s mind. He couldn’t erase what had transpired this evening, but he could at least extend a gracious gesture now. “Do any of you have plans after the meeting?” Most said ‘no,’ and he smiled hopefully. “Good, because I’d like to take everyone out for a late dinner, my treat.”

“Where at?” Scott inquired.

“Wherever the group would prefer, though there is a new steakhouse nearby that I’ve been meaning to try.”

The MOPS members mulled it over, deliberating with one another for a consensus.

“Okay,” Simon affirmed, “we accept your offer and are amenable to the prospect of dining at a steakhouse.”

“Excellent. We can follow behind each other on the ride over.”  

“Jim, would it be all right if I brought my son?” Jack asked, advancing on the consulting criminal so that he could whisper something to him. “Ordinarily, I’d put Reggie straight to bed, but after tonight’s madness, I doubt he’ll be too eager to sleep. That bear was his favorite stuffed dolly.”

“Of course he can come along. It’s terrible what those brutes did.”

“I fully intend to have charges brought against the department. We were all witnesses to what occurred here,” he noted. “We can corroborate as to how botched the operation was.”

“Indeed.” Moriarty would just as soon have the officers dealt with via alternative means, but this wasn’t strictly about him— others were involved, and it did seem like Jack had a leg up on the legal side of things, thanks to his spouse’s connections.

Trevor made an effort to regain control of the room. “I think we should take this opportunity to resume our meeting. Let’s not allow the evening’s upsetting events to interfere with our normal routine.”

Response from the group was largely positive. Many felt that carrying on after their ordeal was empowering, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I want Seb to stay,” the Irishman announced, firmly gripping his alpha’s hand. He’d never admit it, but he was still quite shaken up by the raid.

“Under the circumstance, I think that’s a reasonable request,” Trevor acknowledged.

Moran was well liked among the MOPS participants, so no complaints were registered by them, either.

Everyone reassembled, setting their chairs in a circle. The room around them was trashed, but inside their formation, it was a safe and welcoming space.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get this posted. I've been dealing with insomnia, stress, and a recent snowstorm. Better late than never, right? ;-) 
> 
> Also, baby talk translation in case Reggie's dialogue was unclear:
> 
> “Yu tummy movin!” = You're tummy's moving!
> 
> “Nuuuuuuu! Why huwt JoJo?! Wuv JoJo!” = No! Why hurt JoJo?! I love Jojo!


	99. Forever My Valentine – Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian celebrate Valentine’s Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Explicit m/m slash content is featured in the first part of the chapter. 
> 
> ***********************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

In the days following the erroneous MOPS group raid, a few notable things had occurred. For starters, Jack made good on his vow to take legal action against the Metro PD. A suit was filed, alleging that the Specialist Firearms Command unit had acted without sufficient cause, and furthermore, applied excessive force and intimidation during the proceedings. Charges citing the infliction of duress were also included in the complaint. 

Another item of importance was Jim’s inquest into how his obstetrician, Dr. Swenson, was faring after the sudden loss of her home. Physically, she was in good condition. Emotionally, however, it was a different story. The incident set her on edge, and she’d decided to take some time off while looking for a new place to live. Even so, the woman assured Moriarty she would honor their agreement to deliver his twins.

Last, but not least, Seb finally planted the sapling he’d gifted Jim for Christmas. They opted to put it in the front yard so that they’d see it whenever they pulled up to the house. The mastermind supervised his mate’s work from a distance, watching through a window as he daydreamed about the things they’d do with the tree once it grew. He envisioned carving their children’s names and heights into the trunk, hanging a tire from its branches to create a rustic swing, and perhaps building a playhouse atop its sturdy base. There were so many possibilities to explore.       

In the present, it was Valentine’s Day morning. The genius had mixed feelings about the holiday this year. Ordinarily, he’d celebrate by whisking Sebastian away to an exotic locale where they could revel in the splendors of paradise. Now he was too pregnant to travel very far and worried that his Tiger would be disappointed because of it.

If only he knew what Seb was planning.

The strapping assassin got up early to prepare Jim a decadent breakfast in bed. When he entered their quarters, he was carrying a silver platter fit for a king.

“What’s all this?” the Irishman inquired, sitting up to greet Moran.

“A sumptuous feast, that’s what.” He placed the tray on his mate’s lap and revealed the contents of the meal. “It’s a Belgian waffle with strawberries and cream, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Also, freshly brewed herbal tea— a chamomile blend, to be precise.”

“This is wonderful, darling. Thank you.” Jim was especially surprised to find bacon on the menu, given what a stickler Seb could be regarding his dietary restrictions. He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, though.

“It’s my pleasure. Happy Valentine’s Day,” the blonde announced, leaning over to bestow a quick kiss.

“And to you, dear.”

Jim promptly dug into his repast, savoring the bevy of flavors on display. Everything paired so well together, it was like tasting a bit of heaven in each bite.

“You haven’t wanted to discuss the holiday much, so I took the liberty of organizing a romantic evening for the two of us.”

“Oh reeeeally?”

Moran smiled. “Yes, really. All the necessary reservations have been made. There’ll be dinner, a show, and a carriage ride.”

“Honey, that sounds divine.” He paused, reflecting on the situation. “I’m sorry I can’t take us somewhere nice this year. I know how much you enjoy our annual Valentine’s excursions.”

“I enjoy them because you’re there. It isn’t the location that pleases me, it’s the company I keep.”

Moriarty stared adoringly at his spouse. Every day, his heart swelled anew with love for the man. Sometimes, it was almost too intense to bear.

“Are you all right, Jimmy?” The consulting criminal’s eyes had begun to pool with moisture, causing him concern.

“I…I’m fine,” he answered. “It’s just…you say something like that while I’ve got all these rogue hormones rushing through me. The combination is potent.”

“So, happy tears?”

“Extremely happy,” the overwhelmed omega affirmed.

“Good. You make me feel the same.”

Despite outside attempts to thwart the couple, nothing could diminish the affection between them. If anything, the drama they’d faced in recent months only served to drive the duo closer together, strengthening their already indelible bond.

“Sebby?”

“Yes, kitten?”

“If our plans are for tonight, then what do you propose we do until then? We’ve got a whole lot of hours to kill.”

The sniper eyed his partner seductively. “Sky’s the limit, Magpie. I’m certain we can think of ways to occupy our time.” He reached for Jim’s free hand, pressing the Irishman’s fingertips to his lips. Their gazes locked as he applied gentle kisses to the delicate digits, and soon, they found a way into the warmth of his mouth.

Jim stopped eating to focus entirely on Sebastian. He was enthralled at the sight and sensation of his alpha sucking his fingers in such a suggestive manner.

“My, oh my,” the mastermind purred. “Tiger’s awfully bold today. It’d be a sin to waste all that pent-up energy.”

Moran reluctantly ceased his ministrations so that he could speak. “What if I said I wanted you to top? It’s been too long since I’ve felt you inside me.”      

The consulting criminal’s cock instantly stood at attention. When _was_ the last time they switched things up? Not since they’d stayed at _The Emerald Clover Inn_ during their trip to Ireland. Clearly, this needed to be amended.    

“Well, well, well,” Jim replied with a beguiling smirk. “How could I refuse, when you’ve asked ever so nicely?”

Seb’s expression now matched his mate’s. Wordlessly, he moved the tray of food off the bed and opened the nightstand drawer, retrieving a tube of Astroglide.

Moriarty watched intently as the gorgeous assassin stripped down in front of him, maintaining eye contact throughout. His Tiger truly was a thing of beauty, as awe-inspiring as a sunset or a rainbow after a storm.

When Moran returned to their bed, the genius seized him by the chain he wore around his neck and administered a fierce kiss. The heat between them was combustible, full of love, lust, and unfettered passion.

“Say it again,” Jim commanded.

“Huh?”

“Tell me what you want me to do to you. Be _specific,_ soldier.”

“Yes, sir.” If Jim was seeking dirty talk, he’d get it. “I want you to press your body close to mine, skin-to-skin. I want your tongue in my mouth while I spread my legs and you touch me…open me up. And then…”

“And then what?” the amorous omega prodded. A blanket shielded his lap, but beneath the warm covering was an aching erection that grew stiffer by the second.

“Then I want your cock inside me. I want you to lay back while I take a ride. Pumping and rocking…pounding myself onto your leaking length. And I want us both to cum hard…cum until we’re quivering.” He noted how his husband had broken into a sweat at the mere description of what they were about to do. It was delicious.

“For god’s sake, let’s get to it. If this is just a tease—”

“It’s not.” Sebastian proved he meant business, crawling under the duvet alongside Moriarty and freeing the smaller man of his sleepwear. 

“Oh, Tiger,” he ardently intoned. The rugged blonde was sucking a spot on his neck and it felt _amazing_.

This Valentine’s Day was turning out to be better than Jim ever could’ve imagined.    

*********

After a full morning and afternoon of lovemaking, London’s most dangerous men had worked up ravenous appetites. It was a good thing, then, that they had reservations at _Babbo’s_ , one of the city’s finest Italian eateries.  

“We should dine here more often,” Jim remarked between bites of his eggplant parmigiana appetizer. “It has great atmosphere.”

“I agree, but I may be biased— this restaurant holds a special place in my heart.”

“Interesting. Why’s that?”

Moran looked at his spouse, slightly dejected. “You don’t remember why _Babbo’s_ is special?”

“Not specifically, no.”

Seb frowned. “We had our first date here.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Yes, we did.”

Moriarty furrowed a brow. “Tiger, I love you dearly, but I think perhaps you’ve sustained one too many concussions over the years. It’s affected your memory, darling.”  

“My memory is just fine,” the former colonel insisted. “A few months after I started working for you, you asked me to spend the evening in your company. We went to a planetarium and saw an exhibit about the moons of Saturn. Then, you brought us here for dinner. We ate too much, drank three bottles of wine, and made out in the backseat of your limo. You threatened to shoot the driver when he switched the radio to a country music station,” Sebastian recounted. “This ringing any bells?”  

Jim tilted his head and flashed a wide grin. “Of course I remember that night. Well, mostly— I did get a bit tipsy after all the cabernet. But I digress. That was our _second_ date, not the first.”

The sniper eyed his mate quizzically. “Oh? This is news to me. What do you consider our first date?” He was genuinely curious.

“A week earlier, in Vienna, when we spent the night in my hotel room and then had breakfast together the next morning.”

Seb blinked in surprise. He recalled the occasion, but had never thought of it as a date. It was an assignment. “Jimmy, I was there in an official capacity. I’d been ordered to stay with you as your bodyguard.”

“And why do you suppose I handpicked you for that particular job, hmm? It was because I wanted us to have some one-on-one time.”

“But…you didn’t try anything with me. We just talked, watched tv, slept, and shared a meal.”

“I have to put the moves on you for it to be a date?”

“No, it’s just…” Moran didn’t know what to say. It was astonishing how two people could experience the same event, but interpret it in wildly different ways. 

“Relaaaax, honey. Let’s not get caught up in the semantics. First date, second date— who’s counting? The important part is that we’re together now, and will remain as such forevermore.”   

 _Forevermore._ Seb liked the word. There was no one else he wanted to be with besides Jim, and the feeling was mutual. They belonged to each other, existing as two jagged halves that combined to form an unbreakable whole.

“I love you, Magpie.”

“I love you, too, Tiger.”

The duo couldn’t wait to find out what more the night had in store.

*********

Following a delectable dinner, Jim and Sebastian proceeded on to the next leg of their Valentine’s Day extravaganza. The fair-haired assassin had secured them tickets to see a West End production of _The Phantom of the Opera_. Through the years, he’d come to discover that Moriarty was secretly an Andrew Lloyd Webber fan, and so he thought it would be the perfect show to attend.

If only he’d bothered to research the actual plot of _Phantom_ , he’d have realized it was a tragedy. Maybe then he could’ve avoided his partner devolving into a sobbing mess by the end of the night.

“Kitten, I’m sorry. I honestly had no idea it would finish on such a sad note,” he pled. “I’m no theater connoisseur— I thought musicals generally had happy endings.”

The consulting criminal wiped the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath. “Did you really think that a tale about a deformed man who lives underground and stalks a young soprano would end well?”

“Fair point. Should we ever take in another show, I’ll be sure to thoroughly vet it beforehand.”

“Or you could run it past me, and I’ll tell you all you need to know.”

“True, but then I wouldn’t be able to surprise you.”

“I’d rather not have the kind of surprise that turns me into a blubbering idiot.”

Seb sighed. “Again, I’m sorry.”

Jim looked at his husband, seeing that he appeared contrite. “It’s okay. Truthfully, I adore _Phantom_ , it just rips my heart out every time. You did good getting us tickets.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Moriarty confirmed, smiling softly.

The couple paused for a beat, glancing around the upper lobby of the theater. People were exiting the establishment in droves, and they probably should, too.

“Shall we depart?” Sebastian asked. “Our carriage ride awaits.” He’d arranged it so that all he had to do was text the transport service, and a driver would come.

“Absolutely, my dear.”

The duo walked hand-in-hand. They were midway down the theater’s lengthy entrance staircase when Jim realized he was missing something.

“Sebby? I believe I left my scarf in the auditorium.”

“I’ll go back and get it, if you’d like.”

“Would you? I hate to impose, but it’s a cashmere Armani original.”

“Say no more, love. Wait here and I’ll return in a jiff.”   

“Thank you.”

With Moran having gone to fetch the forgotten garment, Jim stopped to admire his surroundings. The building showcased some truly opulent architecture, reminiscent of the French Victorian era. He decided to capture a picture of it for posterity. The trouble was, people kept obstructing his view— not exactly a surprise, considering he was standing on the stairs that led into the main lobby, but it was annoying nonetheless.   

Moriarty grunted in frustration. He could try to get the photo from down below, but it wouldn’t be at the same angle as what he wanted. Also, it was a long walk to the bottom and he wasn’t certain he could make the trip without Sebastian’s assistance. The sniper had been helping him get around all evening because he didn’t want to be confined to a wheelchair during their special Valentine’s date.

While he contemplated a solution to his quandary, a throng of theater patrons rushed past him. They weren’t exactly the most graceful bunch, bumping into him upon their exodus.  

“Watch it!” he yelled, gripping the railing for support. Not one of them bothered to glimpse back. “Rude bastards,” the mastermind muttered. He had half a notion to go after them, but knew better than to risk it in his condition.

A second wave soon barreled through, this group even more inconsiderate than the last. They thought nothing of pushing him out of their way without so much as an ‘excuse me.’

Jim was getting really fed up. Were these arseholes blind to the fact that he was pregnant, or did they simply not care? He hated to assume the latter, but there were a lot of scumbags in this world.

His grousing was unexpectedly cut short when a gloved hand made contact from behind, roughly shoving him forward. Before he could process what was happening, he was in free-fall.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

The genius tumbled down the staircase, hitting each step as he went. People cleared out of his direct path, but reformed to encircle him as he lay motionless on the floor.

Voices buzzed frenetically as the crowd argued over what to do. Some suggested helping him up, while others insisted he not be moved. Ultimately, the chatter came to a halt when an assertive figure forced its way through the swarm of onlookers. It was Sebastian.

“Jim!” Moran shouted in alarm. He crouched to assist his spouse, holding him so that he sat semi-upright. “What happened?”

“I…I’m not sure.” The Irishman was in a bit of a daze. “I think someone pushed me down the stairs.”

Seb’s heart sank. Why would someone do such a thing? Why?

“Did you see who did it?”

“No.” He grimaced as a shooting pain pierced his abdomen. “I need to go to the hospital NOW,” he demanded.

“Okay.” The sniper was trying to be strong, but his hand shook while taking out his phone. He dialed emergency services as quickly as he could, stressing to the operator how important it was that they arrive posthaste.   

Moriarty was assailed by another cramp. “It hurts.”

“It’ll be all right, honey,” Seb said, desperate to comfort his ailing Magpie. But would it really?

 

 

Moran remained at Jim’s side until the paramedics showed up, at which point he rode along with him in the ambulance.

One of the medical workers began palpating the mastermind’s belly, eliciting an agonized groan.

“Hey!” Sebastian snarled defensively. “What are you doing to him?”

“Checking something,” the young woman replied. She glanced at both men, and then quickly pulled the assassin aside to have a private word with him. “I don’t want to say this in front of your partner because he’s already upset enough, but he needs to have a fetal ultrasound performed _immediately_ ,” she stated in a hushed tone. “We don’t have the equipment for it here, but I recommend they do it ASAP once we reach the hospital.”

Seb paled, panic-stricken at the pronouncement. “Wha…what’s wrong?” he asked, struggling to speak properly. He feared he might hyperventilate at any moment.

“The kind of accident he sustained can be dangerous this late in pregnancy and the symptoms he’s exhibiting are a red flag.”

“A red flag for what?”

“Placental abruption.”

Though Moran didn’t know what the medical term meant, it struck fear into his heart. “Oh god. That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s when the placenta separates from the uterine wall,” she explained. “If that’s happened, his baby will need to be delivered straightaway.”

In an instant, Seb felt as though the world had come crashing down like a ton of bricks. “Not baby— _babies_ ,” he whispered. “We’re having twins.”

“Well, I think there’s a good chance you’ll be seeing them tonight.”

“Tiger,” Jim called out. “Don’t leave me.” The timbre of his voice was fragile in a way that made Moran ache. 

The former colonel returned to Moriarty’s side, holding his hand in reassurance. “I’m not going anywhere, kitten.”

“I’m so worried about our little loves,” he confessed, tearing up as he spoke. “What did the medic tell you? Why didn’t she want me to hear it?”

Sebastian took a few seconds to collect himself before mustering an answer. Dare he break the news to him? He didn’t wish to distress his omega any further, but surely he had a right to know what was going on. _Maybe he’ll react better if I’m the one who breaks it to him._

“She said they’ll need to do a scan to see what your placenta looks like. Depending on how that goes, we may be putting the nursery to use a bit sooner than expected.”

Jim’s expression was a mixture of shock, fear, and amazement. “Truly, Seb? The babies might be coming now?”

He nodded. “That’s right.”

“Ahhh!” the consulting criminal cried, wracked by another shuddering abdominal pain. “We need to call Dr. Swenson,” he blurted out. “She’s supposed to deliver them.”

“I know, honey, but I don’t think there’s time. This is an emergency situation.”

“It has to be her! I can’t let a stranger do it.”

“Jimmy, sometimes these things are unavoidable.”

“No! I won’t allow it!”

The female paramedic approached her patient. “If it turns out you’ve got a placental abruption and you refuse to have a C-section done, your children could die. I apologize for being so blunt, but it’s imperative you understand the seriousness of this. Their lives are on the line.”

Her grave warning put things into perspective for Jim. He would have to swallow his misgivings and do whatever was best for Essie and Eddie.

“If it comes to that, and I’m required to undergo surgery, I want you to be with me, Seb. No wandering off, not even for a second.”

“Are you kidding? You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” He continued to hold his beloved’s hand, hoping it would provide some source of comfort.

At last, the ambulance stopped. The doors opened and the medics were set to wheel Moriarty into the ER. Everything was proceeding fine until Sebastian noticed something. The facility looked oddly familiar. In fact, he was positive he’d been there before.

And then he saw a sign posted, and was absolutely horrified.

_St. Bartholomew's Hospital._

He was in hell, or at least a close approximation thereof. This was the place he’d visited so very many times in his nightmares. The place that had once eviscerated his soul and rendered him an empty shell. It was, and always would be, the place that took away Jim.

“STOP!” the sniper shouted. “Why did you bring him here?! Why, of all hospitals, did you choose this one?”  

“Because it was the closest to your location,” the medic replied.

“Find a different one!” he countered. The alpha had gone wild-eyed, appearing more than a little crazed.

“Sebastian!” Moriarty yelled out. “I know how much you hate St. Bart’s, but please, just let them do their job. Don’t fight it. We’re wasting precious time while our children may be in danger!”

Moran was breathing heavily, trying his hardest to calm down. ‘Hate’ wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how he felt about St. Bart’s. He wished that’s all it was. This cut deeper and burned blacker than mere hatred. It was an albatross from which there was no escape.     

Jim was again beset by a terrible cramp, this one wracking him with a sob.

Suddenly, Seb felt incredibly guilty. He was letting his own personal hang-ups interfere with his family’s welfare. He needed to rein himself in.

“Go on. Help him. I’m sorry I got in the way.”

The medical workers nodded and the rush to treat Jim resumed. Sebastian kept up a steady pace, following along as his husband was taken to have his vitals checked and an ultrasound performed. The results confirmed what clinicians suspected: an abruption had occurred.   

This was it. Tonight their twins would be born into the world, and simultaneously, a setting Seb associated with death would become a place of life.         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoys this! It's my longest installment so far. 
> 
> Unfortunately, I won't be able to get the second half out in time for Valentine's Day proper. But even so, rest assured that the 100-chapter milestone will feature the babies' birth! :-)


	100. Forever My Valentine – Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian become proud parents, albeit slightly ahead of schedule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Possible fluff overdose :-)
> 
> **********************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

_Too fast,_ Sebastian thought. Everything was happening too damn fast.

20 minutes ago, he and Jim arrived at St. Bart’s hospital, where it was confirmed that the mastermind had suffered a placental abruption. 5 minutes later, his mate was administered a spinal block anesthetic. Now, they waited in a surgical suite where the emergency C-section would soon be performed.   

“Tiger,” the genius spoke, giving Seb’s hand a gentle squeeze, “there are some items I need you to bring me once the procedure’s over.”

He nodded. “Anything, love. You name it.”

“I want the overnight bag I prepacked months ago. It’s a blue duffle under the bed.”

“Sure, I can get that.”

“There’s more,” Jim continued. “I also have a plastic crate in the linen closet. It contains things I knitted for the babies— booties, caps, mittens, and more. I want you to bring it here so we can dress them properly.”

“Certainly. I can’t wait to see your handiwork.” His spouse had shown him some of the garments, but not all. He looked forward to viewing the full collection.

“And one final thing…I want you to bring the little white dog plushie.”

Seb’s expression was noticeably confused. “Dog plushie?”

“Yes. Surely you remember Sadie, the dog we encountered on the beach in Monaco? When we got back to London, and I was hospitalized again, you found a stuffed animal in the gift shop that was identical to her. We decided it would be the twins’ first plush toy.”

The sniper racked his brain, trying to summon the information. They’d gone through so much during the past several months, a lot of things blurred together. Still, he did recall their picnic on the beach, and the more he thought about it, he also had some recollection of buying Jim a doll to cheer him up.

“It’s on a shelf in the playroom,” Moriarty further explained. “I wanted us to get a second plushie so that our darlings wouldn’t have to fight over it. I don’t think we ever got around to buying another one, though,” he lamented. “See if they sell anything similar at the gift shop here.”

“Will do.”

Their conversation abruptly stopped when the attending obstetrician and nurses entered the room. Jim’s heartrate and blood pressure were reassessed, and he was cleared for the operation to begin.

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” he marveled. He’d envisioned the birth of their children so many times, and now the moment was here.

“I know, hon. It’s amazing.”

Moran watched as antiseptic was applied to Moriarty’s abdomen and an incision was made. It was surreal to see him cut open like that, particularly while he remained wide awake for the event. Next, his uterus was slit and the doctor’s hand disappeared inside the muscle cavity. When her appendage reemerged, she was grasping a crying, fluid-covered baby.

“This one’s a boy,” the physician announced. She cut the umbilical cord and swiftly passed the newborn to a nurse.

“No! Don’t take him away!” Jim bleated in alarm. This was just like the horrifying nightmare he’d had months ago, where his children were ripped from his body and tortured. The dream had shaken him to the core.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. They need to wipe him off and check his vitals.”

Seb was correct. Almost as soon as he said that, one of the medical assistants returned with the baby, now cleaned and wrapped in a blanket. Both men radiated with delight as the infant was placed into Jim’s arms.

There were so many things the consulting criminal imagined saying to his little ones when they met. Now that the time had finally come, he found himself speechless, overtaken by an intense wave of emotion. He was in absolute awe of the tiny bundle staring up at him, and didn’t even try to conceal the tears that had begun to flow.

Before long, the remaining twin was delivered and presented to them. Jim carefully handed his son over to Sebastian, and accepted Estella into his embrace. The couple admired their children as the doctor worked to stitch Moriarty up.   

“They’re so small,” the sniper remarked, “like porcelain dolls. I’m afraid of breaking them.”

Jim smiled. “They may be petite, but they come from a hardy stock.” He took a second to study both newborns. “Eddie looks just like you.”

It was true. With bright blue eyes and a head full of blonde hair, there was no mistaking his parentage.

“Essie’s got your dark locks,” Seb pointed out. “Gorgeous green eyes, too. I’m not sure which side of the family those come from.”

The genius stared deep into his daughter’s gaze, beaming as he recognized something familiar therein. “My mum had emerald eyes.” He’d wished his mother could be with him many times throughout the past nine months. Seeing an aspect of her reflected in one of his children gave him a sense of peace.

He turned to Moran. “Tiger? I want to hold them both.”

“Of course.” Seb passed the boy back to Jim, so that the Irishman was cradling an infant in each arm.

Moriarty looked at his babies, still emotionally charged, but ready to speak.

“Helloooo, my darlings. It’s Daddy. I’ve waited ages to meet the two of you, though in some ways, I feel as if I know you already. We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we?” He paused, noting that he had their rapt attention. Were newborns always this transfixed, or were they listening so keenly because they remembered the sound of his voice? “You kept me going during the darkest of moments," Jim continued. "I never gave up on you, and more importantly, you never gave up on me, either. You fought to stay alive despite less than ideal conditions, and I’m very grateful for that.” He was rapidly becoming overwhelmed again. The affection flowing through him was immense. “You’ve made Daddy _so_ happy.”

“You’ve made your Papa happy, too,” the sniper interjected. Tough as Sebastian usually was, even he wiped away a few stray tears.

Jim smiled at his spouse. It warmed his heart to know that these babies were a part of them both, and they’d be raising them together. He truly had a family to call his own.

“We’re going to take such good care of you,” the mastermind vowed. “We’ll love and protect you forever.” He leaned down, nestling the twins close as he kissed each of them on the forehead.

The physician finished stitching Moriarty’s incisions and he was moved into the recovery unit. The omega was utterly exhausted. Though he tried to fight it, he eventually succumbed to the siren song of sleep. At that point, Essie and Eddie were taken to the nursery while Moran was able to sneak off and gather the items his Magpie had requested.

On his way out of the hospital, he took a long look at the place. He still didn’t like the facility, not by any stretch. Somehow, though, it didn’t seem quite as abominable as before. He would always resent St. Bart’s for the horrific memories it held regarding Jim’s ‘demise,’ but now the despair was tempered by a new connotation— it was the site of his children’s birth. The good didn’t negate the bad, but it counted for something. Perhaps, he thought, it was finally time to put away the sins of the past and focus on the present.

*********

Upon returning to the house, Sebastian realized he ought to explain what was going on to his current security staff. They needed to know why Jim would be absent for the next few days, and be informed that two more people would reside at the estate once the twins were brought home.

After phoning team leader Roger Flynn, Seb was able to round everyone up via an impromptu conference call and deliver the news in a straightforward manner. It was decided that they’d add a few extra armed guards to each shift as a precautionary measure. Moran wanted to make certain his cubs would be safe.

Once that was squared away, the assassin quickly assembled the things his mate had asked for. He hightailed it back to the hospital, thinking he’d already spent too much time dealing with security matters. Lo and behold, Jim was still asleep. The consulting criminal had his own room now, so Seb dropped off the items and set out for a walk around the building.

His first stop was the nursery, to check on their progeny. He immediately knew which ones were his. Most of the babies were in single-size bassinets, but they’d put Edward and Estella together in a double-wide model. The two laid side-by-side, and Sebastian thought his heart might burst when he noticed that they were holding hands as they napped. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever witnessed, and he wished Jim was there to see it.

 _Magpie wants me to be the twins’ official photographer. Why not get a jump on the job?_ He took out his phone and used the camera feature to snap a shot of their slumbering angels. _He’s going to melt when I show this to him._  

A part of Seb yearned to hold his children again, but he didn’t feel right about doing it without Jim present to share in the bliss. Additionally, Essie and Eddie looked so serene. They needed their rest and he didn’t want to interrupt that. Like a good Papa, he would do what was best and allow them to sleep.

Moran soon sought out the gift shop. An eye-catching Valentine’s Day display stood front and center, featuring a variety of festive items. He decided to pick up flowers and a box of chocolates for his husband. If anyone deserved a treat tonight, it was Jim. Birthing two kids after falling down a flight of stairs had to be grueling.     

Speaking of births, there was a special section of the shop dedicated to just that. Sebastian selected a Mylar balloon that read ‘Congratulations’ and played jaunty music when you pressed a certain spot on it. It was a bit cheesy, but he thought they could do with a touch of whimsy.

Unfortunately, the one thing Seb couldn’t find was a stuffed animal comparable to the white dog Moriarty so adored. They offered plenty of other plushies, but none matching that particular form. He was close to conceding defeat when he glimpsed a doll he knew Jim would appreciate: a little stuffed tiger.

He paid for everything and headed back to the genius’s room, where his mate was slowly awakening.  

Jim blinked sleepily, taking in his surroundings. “Wha…what happened to the babies?” he asked, not seeing them anywhere. “Are they okay? Is something wrong?” His tone conveyed great concern.

“Relax,” Sebastian advised. “Our darlings are doing fine. They were brought to the nursery when you nodded off.” He sat at the Irishman’s bedside and pulled up the picture he’d taken as proof of their well-being.

A joyful coo escaped Moriarty’s lips at the sight his children clasping hands. “Oh Sebby, they’re so precious. Do you suppose they might recognize each other from all those months in the womb? I know they were in separate sacs, but still…”     

“Anything’s possible.”  

Jim hesitated a moment, observing the assortment of items in his room. “I see you fetched my belongings and then some.”

The sniper flashed a sweet, sharky grin. “When I got to the gift shop, I just couldn’t resist.” 

“Thank you, dear. The chocolate will come in handy when I’m allowed to eat again.”

Seb frowned. “You can’t eat?”

“Not for about a day or so. They recommend adhering to a liquid diet for the first 24-hours following a surgery of this nature. I studied up on the subject.”

“That kind of sucks, aye?”

“More than you could imagine,” he groused.  

“Well, I’ve got something I bet will perk you right up.”

The mastermind eyed his spouse intently. “Oh?  Go on.”

“This is more of a ‘show, don’t tell’ type of thing.”

Moran presented Jim with the bag his stuffed toy was in.

Peeking at its contents, he gasped in surprise. “A tiger, from _my_ Tiger!”

“I couldn’t find the one you wanted. I hope this will suffice.”

“It’s even better than the dog. I love it and I’m sure our angels will, too.”

KNOCK. KNOCK.

There was a sudden rap on the door, commanding the couple’s attention. A nurse entered the room, and she wasn’t alone— the woman came bearing Essie and Eddie in their twin bassinet.

Moriarty’s face instantly lit up. “Ooh, this is a welcome visit. Thank you for bringing them here.”

“I thought you might be interested in feeding them,” she said with a smile. The medical assistant rolled the portable baby bed over to Jim and Seb, pulling two pre-prepared bottles from her pouch pocket.

“I’d love to,” the genius enthused.

“How about you?” she asked, looking at Moran.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Good. It’s best when both parents participate. Now, who wants which baby?”

The duo exchanged a glance.

“You didn’t really get to hold Essie earlier,” Jim pointed out. “Would you like to take her now?”

“Sure.”

With the decision made, the woman eased each child into their parents’ respective arms. She then gave them a quick primer on the basics of bottle-feeding, explaining how to test the temperature of the formula, what angle to position the babies in, and when to burp them. Once those topics were covered, they were allowed to get started.

“Eddie’s taking to it like a pro,” Moriarty remarked. Happiness was radiating off him in waves as he fed his son.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was having his own bonding experience. “This little lady has a pretty healthy appetite, too.” Those striking green eyes of hers were swiftly carving out a special place in his heart.

“How often should we do this?” the consulting criminal inquired.

“An excellent question. For maximum nutritional benefit, a newborn should receive a bottle every 2-3 hours.”

Jim nodded. “That’s about what I figured.”    

A few minutes passed without issue, and the nurse spoke again. “Your babies are doing wonderfully so far,” she complimented. “If you’d like, tomorrow someone could come by and show you how to give them a bath.”

“I would absolutely adooore that,” the Irishman replied.

Seb looked to his mate and grinned. He hadn’t seen him this excited in ages.

As the feeding went on, Jim began to hum— an act which Eddie was particularly responsive to. The infant appeared completely relaxed in his Daddy’s embrace.

After the twins had their fill, they remained with their parents for some time. Moriarty seized the opportunity to dress them in his homemade knitted caps and booties, and wrapped them in monogrammed blankets. They barely fussed at all, behaving quite well for having only been born into the world a few hours earlier. Edward and Estella truly were their little angels, content to be doted upon by London's most dangerous men. Lucky for them, this was just the beginning. A lifetime of love and luxury awaited.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the 100-chapter milestone! This took a little while to finish because I wanted to get it perfect.
> 
> P.S. -- In case anyone is wondering how Seb was able to go back home when he and Jim rode an ambulance to the hospital, I like to imagine he called a driver to pick him up, and once he was at the house, took one of his and Jim's cars to make the return trip.


	101. A Friendly Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the birth of the twins, friends stop by to visit Jim at the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Bloody hell!” Jim shouted as he awkwardly limped from the bathroom back to his bed.

“I wish you’d let me help you,” Sebastian said.

“I’m not an invalid.”

“No, but you’ve recently fallen down a flight of stairs and undergone major surgery. You ought to take it easy while your body heals.”

The sniper worried that his mate was pushing himself too hard. It was the second day of Jim’s hospitalization following the emergency birth of their children, and he was in a lot of pain. After the initial anesthesia had worn off, he could feel the bruising and sprained ankle he’d sustained in the fall. To add insult to injury, his incision site was tender.

“I’ve taken it easy for months,” the consulting criminal complained. “I want to be mobile again.”       

“It will happen,” Seb assured. “These things take time.”

“Bollocks that. I can’t wait forever. When we bring the babies home, I have to be ready to care for them. No sitting on my arse— they _need_ me.”

“Honey, I think you’ll be more useful to them if you conserve your energy. Besides, it’s not like you’re doing it alone. I’ll be there to assist.”

“I know, and I appreciate the effort you’re willing to put in. I’m just so fucking frustrated. I should be better than this. Tougher.”

“You’re plenty tough,” the blonde replied. “One of the strongest people I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something.”

“Yeah, it says you’ve got a surprisingly small social circle.”

“ _No,_ ” Sebastian emphasized, “it means you’re a hell of a man, despite your tendency to deflect feelings with snark and sarcasm.”

Jim shot his partner a glare, but the persistent assassin shut it down fast. “Don’t give me that look. We both know it’s true.”

Moriarty sighed. “What do you expect, Seb? Of course I feel badly about this. I was taken out _so_ easily. One push, and BAM— I’m banged up and sent into early delivery. It’s pathetic.”

“Whoever decided to hurt you is pathetic, not the other way around. They were cowardly to attack a pregnant omega, especially from behind.”

“I should’ve been paying more attention…kept my guard up.”

“We were on a date at the theater. You had no reason to believe any amount of ‘guarding’ was necessary then and there.” He paused, reflecting on his own regrets. “It wasn’t exactly my shining moment, either. When I saw you lying at the bottom of those steps, I felt like a complete and utter failure as a husband, an alpha, and a bodyguard.”

“Tiger, that’s nonsense.”

“Precisely my point. We mustn’t blame ourselves for what happened. Someone else was responsible and it would behoove us to go after them instead.”

The mastermind contemplated his spouse’s words. He knew there was merit to the statement. Acknowledging it, though, opened up a whole other can of worms.

“The person who shoved me…you think it was one of our stalkers?”

“Don’t you?”

“I honestly can’t be sure. There were scads of people coming down the stairs. I was jostled by several of them prior to the fall. But…”

“But what?”

“But the push that sent me tumbling did seem more forceful than those preceding it,” he admitted. “Colin and Annie could’ve been involved. I’m not certain either way.”

An idea popped into Moran’s head. “Perhaps the theater has surveillance footage we could review.”

Moriarty was intrigued by the notion. “Interesting. How do you propose we go about acquiring the recordings, should they exist?”    

“We start out with a straightforward approach. Contact the manager of the establishment and explain our situation.”

“And if they won’t cooperate?”

“Then we move on to ‘Plan B.’”

“Which is?”

“Hack into their system and retrieve what we need. Come hell or high water, if footage of the incident is available, we’ll get a hold of it.” 

Jim smiled impishly. “Darling, sometimes I love the way you think.”

“Only sometimes?” Seb teased.

“Don’t press your luck, soldier.”

“Am I allowed to press other things, sir?”

“Hmm. Depends on your definition of ‘other.’”

The former colonel leaned across his mate’s bedside, swooping in for a kiss. It was slow and sensual, almost languid in its pace, as Seb savored the act for all he could. When their mouths finally parted, Jim let out a tiny whimper of disappointment that it was over.

“I hereby decree that lips may be pressed any time, soldier.”

“Aye aye, sir,” he said with a wink.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

The men looked at each other, slightly confused. Was it time to feed the babies again already? Maybe they required a nappy change— earlier in the day, a nurse had taught them the ins and outs of diapering.

It turned out to be neither of those things. When the door opened, a trio of familiar faces walked through. Ian, Jack, and Scott had dropped by for a visit.

“This is a surprise,” Jim remarked. He’d texted Ian about what was going on and gave him permission to share the news with their MOPS group, but he didn’t expect any of them to actually show up at the hospital.

“It’s a surprise for us, too,” Jack noted. “When we heard what happened, we were gobsmacked.”

“Yeah,” Scott agreed, “that must’ve been a scary experience.”

“It was awful, but I survived. A bit sore, though.”

The omegas sat down on the bed with Moriarty, unable to stand for very long in their respective conditions. Ian handed the mastermind a small gift bag he’d brought along.

“This is from the three of us,” the young man spoke. “It’s for the twins. We hope you like it.”

Jim eagerly opened the package, gasping with delight. Inside were two designer, gold-plated pacifiers. “I love them,” he immediately replied. A thought occurred to him, though, and his expression quickly dropped. “These had to have cost a fortune. I wouldn’t feel right about accepting them. Surely your money could be better spent on your babies.”

Jack chuckled. “At the risk of sounding like a pompous twat, I paid the bulk of the cost. So you needn’t worry— Gary and I can afford it.”

“Oh really? I suppose that does change matters a bit. Thank you for the prezzie.” Inwardly, Jim lamented the fact that Seb hadn’t invited Jack to his baby shower. Talk about a missed opportunity. Who knows what he’d have given him at an event like that?

“The pleasure was ours. Scott and Ian did help pick it out.”

“I appreciate the gesture, gentlemen.” Moriarty paused. “Hey, Jack? Since you mentioned your husband, I was wondering something— what’s the status of the lawsuit he filed against the police department? Made any headway with it?”

“Actually, yes. The Specialist Firearms Command unit officers who participated in the bogus raid have been suspended while Internal Affairs investigates the allegations of misconduct.”

“Good,” the genius declared. “They should be held accountable for their actions. It was bloody disgraceful.”

“To say the least. My son was inconsolable after what happened. That stuffed bear they decapitated in front of him? He’d had it since birth,” Jack informed. “I was able to sew JoJo back together, but still, it was a traumatic experience.” 

Jim frowned, recalling how hard the boy had cried during the commotion. “That poor little guy. How’s he doing now?”

“Reginald’s quite well, thanks for asking. His birthday’s coming up soon and he’s very excited about it.”

“Oh? Splendid. Give me your address and I’ll send over a gift.”

“I can do better than that,” the man said with a grin. “We’re throwing him a party at our home. You’re welcome to come if you’d like. It’ll be mostly family, friends, and a few toddlers from Reggie’s playgroup.”

 _Hmm._ It was an interesting proposition. The consulting criminal hadn’t attended a social gathering outside of his MOPS meetings in some time. This might be his chance to jump back into the swing of things.       

“I’ll consider it,” Jim stated. “Are the two of you going?” he inquired, looking at the other visitors in his company.

Scott shook his head indicating a negative. “It’s a bit too posh for me, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah,” Ian chimed in. “I’m awkward enough at parties with regular people. I couldn’t imagine having to interact with the kind of friends Sir Norridge keeps.”

“Hush, the both of you. Our acquaintances may be powerful people, but that doesn’t mean they’re unkind. If you gave them a chance, I think you’d be pleasantly surprised.”

“Powerful people, huh?” Now Moriarty was intrigued. Perhaps a private soiree of this nature would provide an opportunity to make useful connections.

“Yes, but they aren’t snobby in the slightest.”

“Would I be able to bring my partner?”

“Certainly. The more the merrier. You could even bring the babies if you’d like,” Jack implored. “When I mentioned to Reggie that I was coming to see you because you’d had the twins, he begged to come along. He’d love to meet them.”

“Aww, that’s very sweet.”

KNOCK. KNOCK.

All eyes shifted to the door, and soon the group was smiling ear-to-ear as a nurse wheeled Essie and Eddie into the room.

“Perfect timing,” Jim enthused. “Now I can introduce everyone.”

“Thank your spouse for this,” the medical assistant remarked. “He just texted the Nurses’ Station to request your children be brought over.”

Moriarty gazed happily at his better half. Sebastian was always so thoughtful. _He must’ve sent the message while I was caught up in conversation,_ the Irishman mused.

“This is wonderful, Tiger. Thanks.”

“No problem. I figured you’d want to show off our kiddos.”

“You know me well.” He turned his attention to the nurse. “Leave them here until further notice.”

“Okay. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to buzz us out front.” At that, the woman left.

Jim began doting upon his darlings, straightening their knit caps and wiping a bit of drool from their adorable faces.

“Dear lord, they’re cute,” Scott marveled.

“I agree,” said Ian. “They should be in commercials.”

The mastermind laughed. “I doubt I’ll be putting them in any adverts, but yes, my little loves are gorgeous. Seb’s going to take heaps of pictures of them when we get home. He’s even shot a few already. They’re extreeeemely photogenic.” Jim couldn’t resist boasting about his babies. They were an endless source of pride and joy.  

As if on cue, Essie and Eddie smiled up at their Daddy. It was remarkable how they appeared to understand what he was saying. Logically, Moriarty knew such a feat was impossible. Newborns didn’t have the mental capacity to comprehend an exchange of dialogue. Despite that, a part of him wanted to believe his progeny were brilliant enough to grasp things ordinary babies couldn’t.   

“Soooo, who’d like to hold them?” he asked his guests.

“I’ll let these blokes go first,” Jack announced. “They’ve never had kids before. This will be good practice.”

“Fair point. Scott, Ian— are you ready?”

They nodded, and Jim proceeded to instruct them on how to properly lift and cradle an infant. He was a tad worried the twins might react badly to being handled by strangers, but their congenial demeanors shined through once more.

“Hello, little lass,” Scott greeted.

The genius scowled. “That’s Eddie you’ve got there.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Guess I’m not too good at telling them apart yet.”

“I’d have thought the blue cap and booties would be a giveaway.”

“Right…I’m a bit daft sometimes.”

Jim sighed. “Whatever. Keep talking to him— he’s a polite boy, he’ll excuse the faux pas.”

“Hey laddie,” the young ginger spoke again. “My apologies for the mix-up. You’re a very handsome fella.”

Eddie cooed endearingly in reply as London’s most dangerous men watched on. Seb hadn’t said much since the omegas arrived because they were more Moriarty’s friends than his, but he enjoyed observing their children’s response to others. Thus far, they were the most contented babies he’d ever seen.   

“Both of them have beautiful eyes,” Ian complimented.

The consulting criminal beamed with satisfaction.  “Yes, indeed they do.”

Suddenly, Essie wriggled a tiny arm free from the blanket she was wrapped in, outstretching it up towards the teen.

“Well, aren’t you just the absolute sweetest?” He tilted his head down so that she could touch his face. The child’s fingertips grazed the youth’s cheek, and she giggled.

“Estella likes your stubble,” Seb commented.

“Huh?”

“You’ve got a slight bit of stubble,” he noted. “For some reason, she seems to delight in the tactile sensation of it. She reacted the same way to me earlier.”

“Oh. That’s rather adorable.”

“I thought so.”

Ian rocked her gently and she continued to grin. “Pretty soon I’m going to have my own little girl, and the two of you will become best friends. You’ll be older than her by a few months, so I’m counting on you to be the wise one, there to steer her away from trouble should the situation arise.” 

“All our babies ought to play together,” Scott interjected. “We already know and trust each other, and our kids would be around the same age.”

“Not a bad idea.” Moriarty was open to finding more playmates for the twins.

“I like it, too,” added Jack. “We could start an offshoot from MOPS. Instead of assembling as pregnant male omegas, we’d organize ourselves as a community of male omegas raising children.”

“Trevor has a family of his own,” Ian pointed out, referring to the coordinator of their support group. “I wonder if he might be willing to entertain the notion?”

“We can make an inquiry,” the mastermind suggested. “If he goes for it, great. If not, we’ll still put something together. It works either way.”

Everyone seemed to agree that this was a concept worth pursuing. It ensured that they’d remain in touch after giving birth, and it guaranteed their babies would have consistent peer interaction. It was a win-win scenario.

The room’s attention was swiftly drawn back to the twins when Eddie began to fuss. Perhaps intrinsically linked, Essie soon followed her brother’s lead, scrunching up her chubby cheeks and letting out a cry. Jim and Seb took their darlings from the young men, attempting to soothe them as best they could.

“They’re cute even when they’re cranky,” Jack noted. “Reminds me of Reggie.”

“Reminds me of someone I know, too,” the sniper teased.

Moriarty shot his mate a glare, not missing the meaning of his quip. “I think our children may need a feed and a nap,” he tersely declared.

Sebastian grinned. “What a coincidence, me too.”

Try as he might, Jim couldn’t stay mad at his spouse— not when he looked at him with that sweet, sharky smile.  

“Just send them a message at the Nurses’ Station saying we require formula.”

“I would, but as you can see, my hands are full.” Moran cradled a fidgeting Eddie in his arms.     

“Why don’t I go out to the desk and inquire about getting some bottles made up for them?” Ian proposed. “I’d like to watch the feeding process.”

The Irishman paused, considering his protégé’s offer. “Okay, but once they’re sated, I’m going to insist that everyone leave. I appreciate you all coming to visit, but my poppets need their rest.”

“Understood.”

Ian ventured out in search of formula. A nurse was kind enough to oblige his request, and when he came back, the group keenly observed the couple as they tended to the twins’ dietary demands. Afterward, Seb saw the omegas off, walking them to their cars to make certain they got home safely.

Moran was not prepared for the sight he returned to. Upon entering the room, he saw that Jim had dozed off with the babies snoozing on top of him. It was so precious, he dared not disturb them. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t snap a picture.  

_This one’s going to be the new lock screen on my phone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for not updating sooner. This has been a stressful week and I got a bit bogged down. Thank you for your patience.


	102. New Additions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian bring their children home for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

The Moriarty-Moran clan had officially checked out of the hospital after a near week-long stay at St. Bart’s. When they arrived back at their palatial residence, Jim was practically bursting at the seams with excitement. The mastermind was determined to give his little ones a grand tour of the house, sprained ankle be damned.

Hobbling to his wheelchair, he hunkered down and called out to the sniper. “Tiiiiiger, bring me the babies!”

Sebastian complied, carrying their children in a double-slung papoose. “They’re right here, honey. Safe and sound.”

He beamed at the sight of Seb wearing Essie and Eddie on his body. “Oh my god, that’s adoooorable.” Even sweeter was how totally subdued they seemed. The twins lulled in and out of sleep, nestled securely against their Papa’s chest.

“I think they’re fairly relaxed.”

“Excellent.” The consulting criminal had been concerned about how the babies would react to a change of environment. It was a relief to see them unfazed. “I need you to hand me our darlings and then wheel us around the house. I must show them everything.”

“If that’s what you’d like, sure.” Moran thought it was a bit silly— newborns wouldn’t be able to remember the layout. But if it made Jim happy, he’d oblige.

The groggy infants were placed in Moriarty’s arms, still not fully lucid. They looked particularly cute, blinking and gurgling as they gradually became cognizant.

“Helloooo, sweethearts. You’re finally home,” he informed. “Get set, because Daddy’s going to take you on an adventure. I guarantee you’ll see some amaaaazing things along the way.”

Seb smiled, delighted by his family. This was what he’d wanted for so long; what he’d dreamed of, but once thought impossible. Now it was real and he treasured every glorious moment of domestic bliss.

“Where shall we commence the tour, my dear?”

“Hmm.” Jim paused, contemplating the question. “Surprise me.”

“Yes, sir.”

There was a lot of ground to cover and the assassin had just been given carte blanche to begin anywhere he pleased. What wealth of wonders awaited them? In their household, the sky was the limit.

 

 

Rolling. Rolling. Rolling.

Moran knew the mansion he and Jim lived in was large, but it never occurred to him how lengthy the hallways were until today. At certain points, it felt like he was pushing his mate down an infinite corridor existing outside the bounds of time and space. Despite the monotony, Moriarty remained enthused. Nothing could shake his ebullient mood.

As the couple closed in on the nursery, Jim’s joy became irrepressible. He let out a dulcet trill of delight, reawakening the twins, who’d nodded off somewhere between the billiard room and the solarium. What happened next was fascinating. Rather than be startled by the sound, Essie and Eddie responded positively to it, cooing and wiggling in a rudimentary attempt to cuddle the Irishman. Sebastian had read about omegas and their offspring communicating in such an instinctive fashion, but this was the first he’d seen it in practice.

“They really love you, Magpie.”

“And I love them,” he dreamily declared.

“Me too.”

They stopped at the door of the nursery, preparing themselves for what was to come. This was a big moment for all involved.  

“Are you ready, Jim?”

He nodded. “Oh yes.”

“Then let’s go.”

The former colonel escorted his family inside. Everything was as magnificent as he remembered, perhaps even more so now that the twins were there with them.  

“What do you think, my doves? Is the place to your liking?” Moriarty turned to his partner. “Sebby, take one of the babies so I can stand. We’ll show both of them around, up close and personal.”

“Are you sure that’s wise with your ankle injury?”

“It’s not that bad anymore. A dull ache is all. I won’t drop our children, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I know you wouldn’t. I just worry you'll wear yourself out.”

“I’ll be fine,” the genius assured.

The pair proceeded on, Seb taking hold of his lookalike son while Jim cradled their daughter. Eddie squealed happily on contact with Moran.

“Hey there, little guy. Do you know where we are? This is you and your sister’s room.”

Edward simply stared at the sniper with a big grin on his face.

“See that, Tiger? He even has your smile. Or he will, once his teeth come in.”

Sebastian chuckled heartily at the comment. “Poor kid.”

“Hush. You have a wonderful smile.”

“If I were a shark, maybe.”

Moriarty rolled his eyes. “Let’s just get our darlings acquainted with the nursery, okay?”

“Aye, sir.”

The consulting criminal brought Essie over to one of the white canopy cribs. “Isn’t it elegant? I had it picked out before I knew if you and your brother would be girls or boys. Some designs are classic regardless of gender.”

The adorable infant looked at the bed and yawned.

“Are you tired, love? Would you care to lie down?”

She answered with another tiny yawn.

“Seb, I believe Estella needs a nap. This may be a fine opportunity to get her used to sleeping in here.”

“Good idea, but what about Eddie? He’s still alert.”

“Continue showing him around. In a few minutes, he’ll probably tucker out. That’s the beauty of keeping them on the same schedule— eventually, they’ll synchronize.”

“Yeah, makes sense.”

Jim gently rested his baby girl in her crib, making sure she was positioned on her back. To his chagrin, she began fussing almost immediately.

“Maybe you should give her a blanket?” Seb suggested. “She might find comfort in something warm and soft.”

“I’d love to, but the nurses at the hospital warned me not to let them sleep with a blanket until they’re a year old.”

Moran arched a brow. “Why not?”

“Apparently, it increases the risk of suffocation,” he explained. “I felt like a right idiot. I’d knitted all those blankets, only to learn I couldn’t use them.”

“Perhaps you still can, in a manner.”

“How’s that?”

“Swaddle her with one of them. I’m certain that much is allowed— I was present when they gave us a demonstration.”   

He considered the prospect. “That might work.”

The mastermind retrieved a pale pink blanket from the armoire and laid it on the changing table. “We’re going to try something different, sweetie,” he said to his daughter, scooping her up so he could administer the swaddling.

While Jim tackled that matter, Sebastian was occupied by Eddie. The boy was in awe of his surroundings, gazing at a brand new world. Everything enthralled the child, from the ornately carved furniture to the floral decals adorning the walls.

“Your Daddy put a lot of effort into decorating this place,” Moran noted. “I was impressed the first time I saw it, too. I’d show you the playroom as well, but I’m afraid it would overstimulate you right now.”

Eddie grunted, as if voicing his opinion.

“I can’t tell if you’re disagreeing with me or not. Either way, it’s incredibly cute.”

The baby grumbled again, this time looking his Papa in the eye.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were communicating with me.”

Jim glanced over at his husband and son. “He is, Tiger.”

“I don’t think that’s possible. He’s too young to comprehend what we’re saying.”

“And yet somehow he quite clearly responds to us during conversations. I didn’t believe it right away, either, but it seems like more than coincidence.”

Seb was dumbstruck. Could it be true? The claim was too far-fetched to entertain. However…

“Magpie? Permit me to make a hypothesis.”

Moriarty cocked his head curiously. “A hypothesis? Please, do tell.”

“Supposing Eddie was exceptionally gifted, he might recognize the nuances of speech pattern and react accordingly based on observational cues. So perhaps that’s what’s going on— it’s not that he truly grasps the content of our language, but rather the way in which we say things.”

The Irishman wasn’t convinced. “There may be some merit to your theory, but it doesn’t fully explain the experiences I’ve had with our children. I talked to them before they were born. I’d speak and they would respond. I’m not sure one can ‘observe cues’ in utero.”

“They might, if they were geniuses listening to your intonations and inflections even then. But I digress. It’s merely an idea. At the end of the day, who really knows?”

“ _I_ do, Sebastian. Trust me on this. The twins absolutely _are_ budding savants,” he stressed. “But I also share a deep connection with them, and can state without a shadow of a doubt that they understand me perfectly. It’s innate.”

Seb was silent for a moment, processing his mate’s candid admission. He never thought a man as pragmatic as James Moriarty would think with his heart instead of his head, but here they were. Strangely enough, he found it endearing. 

The quiet that came over the room alerted the couple to their children’s calm. It appeared both babies had drifted to dreamland while Jim and Seb were engaged in debate. Essie snoozed on the changing table and Eddie was conked out right there in the assassin’s arms.

“Look at them, Tiger. They’re spectacular.”

“They sure are.”

Moran carefully placed young Edward into his crib and Moriarty did the same with Estella. For a few minutes, they stood watch over their cubs, feeling intensely protective of them.

“Sebby?”

“Yes?”

“When they wake, let’s bring them to the playroom. I’m eager to fire up the carousel.”

“Sounds like fun,” the blonde remarked. He reached to clasp his omega’s hand, giving him a supportive squeeze.   

London’s most dangerous men grinned in tandem, happier than they’d been in a very long time. It was joy well-earned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to indulge in a bit more fluff before resuming with the drama. Bringing the babies home seemed like a perfect opportunity for that.
> 
> P.S. -- I wish I was a better artist so that I could illustrate a picture of the twins. I envision them as being ridiculously cute ;-)


	103. A Family Affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic duties and investigation abound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Hello?” Sebastian called out upon entering his home. He’d just returned from headquarters and had a surprise for Jim. Thanks to the handiwork of a hacker in their employ, he was able to acquire the security camera recording from the night of Moriarty’s ‘accident.’ He figured they could review the footage together and see what, if any, information there was to glean.

The sniper received no reply. He did, however, observe sounds emanating from another room. Deciding to follow the noise, he quickly realized that what he heard was laughter in the kitchen.

Moran peeked through the doorway, and what he saw was truly inexplicable. The twins were sat in their highchairs while Jim crouched below the table with a googly-eyed, black and white spotted sockpuppet on his hand.

“Bonjour, mes chéres!” the puppet ‘spoke’ in an affected French accent. “It is I, Monsieur Moo, bovine extraordinaire! It’s come to my attention that the two of you are the most adoooorable bébés in all of Europe. No, no…the most adorable in the whole wiiiiiide world!”

Essie and Eddie giggled uproariously at their Daddy ‘talking’ through his hand and using a silly voice. At their age, it didn’t take much to induce amusement.

“Bonjour to you, too,” Seb said, making his presence known.

The consulting criminal swiftly stood up, trying to play it cool, but blushing slightly. “Welcome back, dear. I didn’t hear you come in.”

He grinned. “Obviously.”

“I was just indulging the babies a bit. The interactivity is good for them.”

“I’m sure it is, Monsieur Moo.”

Moriarty’s slight blush turned to a deep crimson at his mate’s remark. “Alliteration is easier for a child to remember.”  

“I bet.”

For all his teasing, Sebastian was actually delighted to see Jim and their cubs having a fun time. Plus, it seemed educational as well— they were being exposed to a smattering of foreign language words.

“Would you care to join us for a rousing installment of ‘Barnyard Theater?’”

The assassin chuckled. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Indeed. Now let me think for a second. You could be…Colonel Clucker, expert avian authority.”

Seb stared at his mate in disbelief. “Colonel Clucker? Are you kidding me?”

“What’s the problem? It fits the farm animal theme and rolls off the tongue quite nicely.”

“Clucker implies ‘hen.’ A hen is a female, Jim. I’d be a rooster.”

“Well, duh. I’m aware of the difference,” he scoffed. “But it doesn’t hold the same alliterative appeal.”

Moran rolled his eyes. “You and your damned alliteration.”

“Hey,” the genius objected, “you had no issue with it when I wanted to give the babies names that started with the same letter.”

“Because the names you came up with for them were a far sight better than ‘Colonel Clucker.’”

“Of course they were. I had a lifetime to think of what I’d call my children, and only ten seconds to brainstorm your barnyard character.”

There was a silence following Moriarty’s statement. He averted his gaze downward, almost as if embarrassed by what he’d admitted.

Seb closed in on him, and to Jim’s credit, he didn’t back away. But he wouldn’t meet his husband in the eye, either.

“Kitten…”

“Don’t.”

“Honey, please.” Moran placed a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. “This is a silly thing to argue about. I’m sorry I complained. ‘Colonel Clucker’ is actually rather cute.”

“It’s daft.”

“No, the more I say it, the more it grows on me.” He paused, pondering the curious part of Jim’s declaration. “So you had the twins’ names picked out for a pretty long time, huh?”

The Irishman finally looked up again. “Is that such a surprise?”

“Honestly? Yeah, it is. I was under the impression you never wanted children until recently.”  

“I…it’s…” he trailed off wistfully. “You’re not wrong. For most of my adult life, kids weren’t even a blip on my radar. But…”

“But what?”

“When I was little, I used to imagine it. I had a stuffed dolly I would pretend was my ‘baby.’ I’d dress her up and carry her around everywhere I went.”

Sebastian smiled at the mental image. “Oh, Magpie, that’s very sweet.”

“Yes, well, what happened to her wasn’t especially sweet,” he lamented. “My first week at the orphanage, one of the older boys stole her from me the night I was assigned to do chores. He stomped her, gutted her, and left the remains on my bed.”

“Jesus Christ,” Moran gasped. It never failed to amaze him how Jim’s stories could go from heartwarming to horrifying in zero seconds flat. No wonder the man was so messed up.

“Funny, that’s what he said when I stabbed him in the eye socket. Though to be accurate, he uttered it immediately prior to the gouging. Afterward, it was really just a jumble of incoherent screams.”  

“Wow. I’m sorry, love.”

“That makes two of us.”

The duo’s attention was soon usurped by the unmistakable sound of retching. They turned and saw that Eddie had spit up all over himself.

“Oh no, my poor darling.” Jim rushed to his son’s aid, wiping his mouth clean with a warm washcloth. Fortunately, the child wore a bib which had shielded his clothing from the mess. Moriarty removed the covering and scooped the infant into his arms, rocking him gently.

“Is he okay?”

“I should think so. I fed them about a half hour ago, hence the bibs. I burped them as usual, but I believe Eddie may have eaten a bit too much,” the consulting criminal explained. “This is my fault. He looked so satisfied while he was suckling, I didn’t have the heart to take the bottle away from him.”

“Don’t blame yourself, dear. These things happen,” Seb reassured.

“Perhaps, but they ought not.” He leaned down and kissed Eddie atop the mop of his blonde hair. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I won’t let it happen again.”

 The tiny tot gurgled, his expression weary. Throwing up had sapped a lot of energy from him.

“It’ll be all right, I promise,” Jim said apologetically. “Tonight, after bath time, Daddy will dress you in your favorite jammies and sing you a song.”

“Maybe we could do it together,” Moran suggested.

“I’d like that.”

Essie began to grouse, and it became clear both babies were in need of a diaper change and a nap.

“Tiger? If you’d care to pitch in right now, I wouldn’t refuse the help.”

“Certainly, I’ll assist.” These were his children, too. It was only fair he lend a hand. “And Jimmy? I’ve got a surprise for you once we’re done.”

“Ooh, a surprise? How intriguing.”

“I think you’ll appreciate it.”

“Then let’s not dally. Come,” he commanded, heading for the door. “Grab Essie, and it’s off to the nursery. We have poppets to pamper.”

The sniper made a conscious effort not to roll his eyes. Moriarty was again going a tad overboard with the alliteration, but now was not the time to harp on it. Instead, he simply nodded and followed Jim’s lead.

*********

It took longer than expected to settle Edward and Estella down. The former was still somewhat rattled by an upset tummy, while the latter was showing signs of mild nappy rash. Moriarty initially went into panic mode, but remembered that he had the twins’ pediatrician on speed dial. The doctor was, thankfully, able to talk him through the situation.  

“Try to relax, kitten. Our little ones are fine. They have normal baby issues. It’s nothing to be alarmed by.”

“Relaxation is easier said than done.” He paused for a beat. “Seb? Where’s the surprise you mentioned?”

“Glad you asked.” Moran pulled a USB stick from his pocket. “Fancy a guess as to what’s on this flash drive?”

“I’m not in the mood for games. Just tell me.”

“If you insist. What I’ve got here is security footage from the evening of your ‘accident’ at the theater. I haven’t watched it yet myself. I thought you might want to be present for the viewing.”

“You’re correct, I doooo.” Jim had intended to get a hold of the surveillance recordings himself, but he’d been too busy taking care of their children to tackle it.

“I’ll fetch your laptop.”

Seb retrieved the item from his mate’s office, bringing it to where they now sat in the living room. The stick was inserted into the computer port and a downloaded file appeared on screen. Without delay, they clicked to play the footage.  

Eight hours. There were eight continuous hours of video to sift through. Mercifully, there was also a fast-forward option. They skipped ahead until reaching the timestamp of the incident, pausing to confirm that they were at the correct point.

“There we are, exiting the auditorium to go downstairs,” Moriarty noted. The quality of the recording wasn’t great, but he could at least identify him and his partner amid the crowd.

“Yes, this is it.”

The men were on the edge of their seats, anxious to resume playback.

So far, everything lined up with how Jim remembered it. He’d gotten Sebastian to go find his forgotten scarf while he waited on the stairs. Then he saw himself attempting to take a photo of the building’s architecture, only to be thwarted by a horde of patrons blocking his path. And finally, all of it led up to that one fateful moment. In a matter of seconds, he went from standing off to the side and minding his own business, to somersaulting down a significant stretch of steps. It looked as painful as it felt.

They rewound the footage several times to study exactly what had happened. Surveillance showed another group of people brushing past Jim, and from that bunch, one individual trailed behind. It was this person who surreptitiously extended a gloved hand and administered the shove that sent him tumbling.     

Due to the lackluster camera resolution, it was difficult to conclusively ID the perpetrator, but they did seem to be female. They sported dark glasses and a pullover hat, likely meant to obscure their appearance. Once the deed was done, the woman escaped by blending in with the crowd.

London’s most dangerous duo exchanged a sobering glance. A singular thought was going through both their minds, though neither wanted to say it.

At last, the Irishman found his voice. “You think that was Annie, don’t you?”

“I doubt it would be anyone else.”

“How do you suppose she knew we’d be at the theater?”

“Good question. My best guess is that she and Colin must’ve found a way to keep tabs on us without actually accessing our property. Perhaps they’ve set up a stakeout somewhere nearby.”    

Jim sighed heavily. “So now what?”

“We remain vigilant.”

“Vigilance didn’t prevent this. We need to do better.”

“Okay, fair enough. What do you propose?”

“I…I don’t know.” What more _was_ there? Their home was already guarded tighter than Fort Knox. Hell, they had actual mercenaries surrounding the estate, ready to dispatch intruders on sight. It didn’t get much securer than that.  

“I have an idea, but I suspect you’ll hate it.”

“Go on.” Moriarty was open to anything at this point.

“Clearly, our welfare is at risk in public places. I suggest we hire a security detail to follow us whenever we venture off our own property.”

“Constant bodyguards, then?”

“Yeah, basically.”

The omega was at a loss for words. His spouse was right— he _did_ hate the idea.

“It’s a shitty solution,” Seb acknowledged, “but can you recommend an alternative course of action?”

No, Jim couldn’t, and the reality of that was frustrating as fuck. He relished his freedom and autonomy; his ability to go where he wanted, when he wanted. If he agreed to be tracked at all times, he would essentially be giving that up— surrendering, in a sense.

The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. What if he felt like running out in the middle of the night for a pint of ice cream or a bag of crisps? Was it justified to assign bodyguards during such trivial errands? And even if security stayed out of view, he’d know they were there; know that he was being spied upon virtually every moment of the day.

“Say something, Magpie.” Seb didn’t like it when Jim was this quiet. It rarely signaled anything good.

“I say ‘no.’”

“Jimmy, please. Take a minute to really consider this.”

“I have.”

“Then you realize that whenever we leave this house, our safety is compromised? By default, that includes our children’s safety as well. Can you go on, knowing they’re in potential danger? Because I can’t do it, Jim. The very notion sends me reeling.”

Hurt flashed within the depths of Moriarty’s dark eyes. “How could you ask me that? Of course I want them to be safe.”

“Then we must undertake certain precautions,” the assassin stressed. “Yes, being chaperoned sucks. But if it helps protect Essie and Eddie, it’s a worthy sacrifice.”

Sebastian made a compelling argument, one that the mastermind couldn’t deny. Life no longer revolved solely around himself. The babies were more important.

“You’re right,” he conceded. “This is bigger than the both of us.”

“So you’ll consent to additional security detail?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated, wanting to further clarify his stance. “Be aware that I still intend to seek retribution against our stalkers. I swore I’d go after them once the twins were born and I meant it. But our darlings are only two weeks old and require constant care. Until I feel that the time is right to strike, bodyguards will be our recourse.”

“I think that’s a wise decision, my love.” Jim wasn’t haphazardly rushing into a perilous situation— this was progress, for sure.

 WAAAH. WAAAAAH.

The baby monitor blared, giving Moran and Moriarty a sudden jolt.

“Oh dear, we’d best check on them,” the consulting criminal declared as he rose to his feet. “Be prepared— they may require swaddling and songs.”

“Understood.”

Though Seb was no stranger to caring for his children, he had to admit that Jim tended to them on a steadier basis. If anyone knew how to soothe them, it was him. _Perhaps,_ the sniper thought, _I can watch and learn._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter started out one way and metamorphosed into something else as I was writing it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Approximate translation of what Jim says to the babies in French:
> 
> “Bonjour, mes chéres!” = "Hello, my dears!"


	104. Party Time – Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim, Sebastian, and the twins attend their first social function as a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Sebbbby!” Jim beckoned from the nursery. “Hurry up! I don’t know how much longer they’ll keep smiling!”

The sniper entered the room bearing a professional-grade camera. He was wearing semi-formal attire in accordance with the party he and Moriarty were scheduled to attend. “Relax, honey. I’m here.”

“And not a moment too soon. Snap a photo— this is going in the twins’ album.”

As Sebastian prepared to take the picture, he was struck by how lovely his children looked. Eddie wore a stylish grey suit, complete with a miniature clip-on necktie and loafers. Not to be outdone, Essie was decked out in a frilly lavender dress with an adorable floral headband and Mary Jane shoes. The twosome was perfect, resembling porcelain dolls brought to life. 

CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.

Moran made sure to get multiple shots so they could choose the best of the bunch.

“Thank you, darling. I can’t wait to see how the photographs turn out when the film is developed.”

“It’s my pleasure. You’ve selected excellent ensembles for our little ones.”

The consulting criminal smiled. “Do you really think so? This will be their first social engagement and I hope to make a good impression.”

“I’m certain they’ll ‘wow’ the crowd,” Seb affirmed. “Never have infants been so chic as ours.” At that, he pulled his partner close and delivered an unexpected kiss on the lips. “I’ve got beautiful babies and a ravishingly handsome husband. Someone pinch me, because I must be dreaming.”

“You’re a sentimental fool, my dear.”

“And you love it.”

“I dooooo.”

Sebastian flashed a sharky grin. “Let’s take a group shot. All of us, as a family.”

Now Jim’s expression rivaled his mate’s. _Family._ It was funny how a concept once so foreign to him had come to mean everything. He was living proof that impossible dreams could be made real when one needed them most.

The couple assembled with their children, and thanks to Seb’s long limbs, they were able to snap a fine selfie.

“That was wonderful. I know I’ll be framing it,” Moriarty declared. He paused, quickly glimpsing the time on his watch. “I hate to end this moment, but we should start loading the car. I promised Jack I’d arrive early to help him set up for the party. Plus, Reggie wants to meet the babies.”

The former colonel looked intently at his cubs. “You hear that, kiddos? You’re famous.”

“Of course they are. Any child of ours ought to be.” Humble, the mastermind was not.

“Naturally,” Seb said with a wink. “Anyway, sure, I’ll carry whatever you’d like to the car.”

“It’s kind of a lot,” he warned. “We’ll probably need to make several trips back and forth.”

“I am your indomitable pack mule. Weigh me down as you wish.”

Moran’s offer was soon put to the test. Jim had him haul two fully stocked diaper bags, a double stroller, swaddling blankets, bottles and formula, pacifiers, plush toys, a first aid kit, and last but not least, Reggie’s birthday present.

After all the items were moved, the next matter of business was safely transporting the twins. They were secured in their car seats, but Moriarty could not abide the idea of them being alone in the back while he was up front with Seb. His solution was to change position so that he sat between his angels in the rear of the vehicle.

Now the only thing left to do was locate Jack’s house. Thank god for GPS.

 

 

When the couple pulled up to the Norridge residence, they were immediately captivated by the vastness of the property. The home itself was massive and appeared to be very old— probably passed down through generations, Jim supposed. The surrounding acreage contained playing courts for tennis, croquet, and golf. There was also a hedge maze and greenhouse on site.

Sebastian stepped out of his Mercedes and whistled. “Damn, kitten, you’ve got some fancy friends.”

“Apparently.” No wonder Ian and Scott had felt too out of place to come. This was an estate fit for royalty.

“How is it that Jack needs you to help him set things up? From the looks of it, he could afford to hire a whole fleet of assistants.”

“Honestly, I think it’s because he wants someone around to talk to. He feels comfortable with me due to our dealings in the MOPS group.”

“Fair enough,” the assassin shrugged. “Shall we unload the car ourselves or see if they’ve got staff assigned to such menial tasks?” He was joking, but within seconds, uniformed servants were sent out to greet them and usher their belongings inside. Neither man complained, as it allowed them to focus on tending to the babies.

They entered the opulent home and were treated to the sight of celebratory decorations hanging wall-to-wall in the living room. Banners, streamers, and balloons filled the space, along with several large folding tables surely meant to hold a myriad of food and drink.

“Hello!” a voice called out. It was Jack. “Glad the two of you could make it!” he welcomed. “Please, let me take your coats.”

Jim and Seb shed their winter wear, removing the twins’ tiny Burberry jackets as well. They handed them over and watched their host summon a butler to hang the items in the cloakroom.

“Wow,” he remarked, seeing the duo dressed up, “the two of you are dashing as the day is long. I’m not used to this.”

Moriarty laughed. “It’s funny you should say that, because once upon a time, practically all I wore were suits.”

“Sounds like my husband. I swear Gary’s singlehandedly responsible for keeping Armani in business.” The man paused, a grin eclipsing his face as he noticed Essie and Eddie’s outfits. “Oh, I do believe we’ve discovered the absolute loveliest newborns in London. I haven’t seen babies this sophisticated since Reginald.”

“Thank you. How is the birthday boy?” Jim inquired.

“He’s been quite…exuberant. Woke me up at dawn, thrilled to death about his party. Then he was running all over the damn place this morning. Finally tuckered himself out an hour ago, and I was able to put him down for a nap. It’ll be good for him to get some rest before the festivities begin.”

“Right. So what’s the plan for today? Truth be told, I’ve never been to a children’s soiree.”

“For starters, I wouldn’t advise that you form your opinion of them based on what you see here,” he cautioned. “This is going to be more of an ‘all ages’ affair than something strictly geared towards children. However,” he noted, “that’s not to say there won’t be whimsical elements infused into the proceedings. Cake and ice cream will be served, along with a few other foods kids love. Then, of course, presents will be opened. I also wanted to include classic games like ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey’ and ‘Musical Chairs,’ but Gary pointed out that Reg and his playmates are still too young for such activities. My little man is so mature for his age, I sometimes forget he’s only turning two.”    

“Hey,” Sebastian interjected. “I don’t mean to butt in, but Essie’s getting restless here in my arms. I think she’d prefer to be sat down. Perhaps we should transfer the twins to the stroller?”

“Good idea,” Jim agreed.

“If you’d like, I could handle them while you and Jack catch up.”

“Certainly, if you’re confident you can manage on your own.”

“We’ll be fine, won’t we, Essie?”

The infant squirmed slightly, her huge emerald eyes fixed on the sniper’s face.

“Okay,” Moriarty spoke, carefully passing Eddie over to Seb. Before his spouse could situate the babies in their side-by-side carriage, he made sure to have a word with his darlings. “I expect both of you to be good for your Papa. If you need anything, we’re here. And know that later on, you’ll meet lots of new people. You ought not be shy or afraid,” he assured. “We wouldn’t introduce you to just anyone. You’ll be safe.” The genius then leaned in, kissing each of their chubby cheeks as they cooed contentedly. “Daddy loves you.”

Moran smiled warmly at the show of affection. Jim was so gentle with their children, it was difficult to believe that this was the same man who led one of the most powerful criminal empires in Europe— maybe even the world. They brought out something beautiful in him that few would ever be privy to.   

“Come on,” Jack implored. “Follow me to the kitchen and I’ll give you a preview of what’s on the menu.”

The mastermind took one last look at his family before turning to walk away. He was anxious about leaving the babies behind, though he tried to play it cool. Intellectually, he knew they were in good hands with their father. Emotionally, it was a different story. He’d only ever left their side while in the hospital, and later, in the haven of their heavily-guarded home. Now they were on someone else’s turf and all bets were off.

 _Don’t be an idiot,_ he chastised himself. _You’re better than this. Smarter. Tougher. Nothing gets to you._ It was a mantra he repeated, but in his heart, he knew it wasn’t true. Not anymore.      

 

 

“Tah dah!” Jack jauntily announced. “Doesn’t it look delicious?” he asked, referring to the numerous food trays lining the countertops.   

Moriarty offered no reply, lost in a fog of nervous thought.  

“Hello? Earth to Jim?”

“Huh?” he absently muttered.

“I was wondering what you thought of the food waiting to be served. However, now I’m more concerned as to your presence of mind. Where did you go for a minute there?”

“I, uh…sorry. I’m just worried about my children. I get worked up when they’re not in my sight and there’s no baby monitor to hear them. It’s silly, really.”

“Nah, not silly at all. I get it.”

“You do?”

“Totally. We have an instinct to protect our young. Sometimes it can be overwhelming. Hell, that’s the main reason why I have such a hard time finding babysitters for Reggie. I have difficulty entrusting him with anyone other than myself.”  

“I hate this feeling. When does it stop?”

“I don’t know. Hasn’t so far for me,” he lamented. “If it’s any conciliation, I think we’ve hit upon another compelling reason to launch a male omega parenting group. It would give us a sounding board to discuss these types of issues.”

“Yeah,” Jim solemnly spoke. “In the meantime, it does nothing to help me right now.”

Jack sighed. “Hey, this is a party. Or it will be, in about an hour. I refuse to let any guest of mine sulk at a Norridge event. So buck up and look on the bright side— you’ll soon be socializing with some very exciting individuals, while also having your little ones nearby. It’s a win-win situation.”

“I guess so,” he said. The Irishman wanted to focus on the positive, but was galled by emotions he couldn’t seem to control.

“I _know_ so. How about we do something to get the ball rolling?”

“Like what?”

“Look around. We’ve got a veritable smorgasbord in front of us. I say we oversee it as it’s put on proper display.”

“Oversee? We’re not actually setting it out ourselves, then?”

“Oh, heavens no,” Jack answered with a chuckle. “We simply instruct the staff where we want items to be placed.”

Moriarty paused, a sly smile creeping across his face. _This could be fun._

“By the way, there will also be an ‘Adults Only’ wine bar on the buffet. The contents come courtesy of my own private cellar. I can’t drink at the moment, but I can live vicariously through those who do.”   

“I used to love wine,” the genius reminisced. “I was never one to say no to a good cabernet. Not until recently, that is.”

Jack grinned. “Well, you aren’t pregnant anymore. Might as well live a little.”

 _Hmm._ _Maybe this is just what I need to take the edge off my nerves._

“Show me your best vintage.”

 

 

To Be Continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for Part 2, which will feature a tipsy Jim, a meeting between Reggie and the babies, and perhaps even a surprise guest! :-)


	105. Party Time – Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian engage in pre-party activities, most notably, showing off the babies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Ooh, this is delicious!” Jim exclaimed. The buffet was officially set out and a tipsy Moriarty had taken it upon himself to sample a bit of everything before the guests arrived. “What do you call it again?”

“Raspberry-brie tarts,” Jack replied. “I detest the combination, but Gary likes it, so I added them to the menu.”

“Your husband has excellent taste.” Speaking of spouses, he turned to Sebastian, who sat beside him in the spacious living room where the party was assembled. “Darling, try this. You’ll loooove it.”

“I’ll not be putting that in my mouth, thank you very much.”

“Aww, honey, come on. Just a teeeensy bite.” The mastermind affected a pout, hoping it might hold some sway over his mate. No such luck.

“Not even if you paid me, dear. You know how much I hate soft cheese.”

“Spoilsport,” he quipped, taking another generous sip of cabernet. Other, more explicit methods of persuasion soon raced through his head, but this was neither the time nor place to explore them.

“Tell me,” Moran began, addressing their host, “will there be music at this gathering?”

“Yeah, I’ve put together a playlist for the occasion. It’s a mix of songs Gary and I enjoy.”

“Splendid,” Jim enthused. “Perhaps there’ll be something we can dance to. You should see Seb cut a rug. He’s got _all_ the moves.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yes. My fella’s a regular Fred Astaire.”

The sniper flushed at his partner’s praise. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I would. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Thank you, love. I appreciate the kind words.”

“I mean it, Tiger. You’re an amazing man. Maybe I don’t say that often enough, but it’s true.”

“Must be the wine talking now,” he teased.

Moriarty grinned. “Approximately 25% wine, 75% heart, give or take a few decimals.”

“Only you could distill sentiment into a calculable quantity.”

“I can’t help it. I’ve the mind of a mathematician.”

“And a madman, but who’s counting?”

“Aren’t they basically the same thing?” Jim said with a wink.

“My goodness,” Jack interjected. “Has anyone ever told the two of you that you’re disgustingly sweet? Just listening to your banter is giving me a toothache.”

“I’m sure I’ve disgusted many people through the years,” Seb glibly intoned. “Sweet is a new one, though.”  

“I’m not sweet either,” Jim insisted.

“Actually, kitten, sometimes you are.”

The genius peered at his mate in annoyance. “Excuse me?”

“What you’re doing right now is a great example. When you’re irritated, your nose crinkles up in the loveliest way. It’s adorable. I’ve seen Essie do it, too. She gets it from you.”

Jim’s agitation faded at the mention of his daughter. “She does do that, doesn’t she?” he fondly mused. “Perhaps she _has_ inherited a thing or two.” He glimpsed the twins, who were slumbering in their side-by-side stroller. The mere sight of them made him smile.

“MUMMA! MUMMA!” a tiny, but loud, voice suddenly shouted from the distance.

It was Reggie. Clad in Spiderman footie pajamas, the birthday boy barreled towards them at a breakneck speed.

“Mumma! Am here!” He eagerly hugged Jack’s leg and giggled.

“You certainly are, sweetheart. How was your nap?”    

“Boooorwing. Nu wanna sweep! Wanna parwty!” At that, the precocious toddler did an impromptu dance consisting of a spin and a shuffle. All three men laughed heartily at the performance.  

“Those are some fine moves you’ve got,” the sniper remarked.

“Fank you, mista. Nu wemember you name.”

“It’s Seb,” he said, sporting his trademark toothy grin.

“Fanks, Seb.”

Moran marveled at how well-spoken the child was. Would his and Jim’s kids be as articulate, he wondered? It was possible, considering the consulting criminal’s intellect.

Reggie’s expression lit up when he noticed the babies, who remained stone-cold asleep. Their ability to snooze through almost anything definitely came from their Papa’s side of the gene pool.

“Baybuhs!”

Jack placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, stopping him from charging up to the infants. “Hold on, honey. They need their rest.”

“Nuuuuu. Wake baybuhs, _pwease_?” He gazed at the trio with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Actually,” Moriarty spoke, “it’s been a few hours since their last nappy change. It would probably be okay to gently wake them, since they’re due for a diapering.”

“Are you sure, Jim? My little lad can be a bit pushy at times. It’s difficult to say ‘no’ to a face as cute as his.”

The mastermind chuckled. “It’s truly all right.” He paused, looking to his spouse. “You ready, Tiger?”

“Yeah, just tell me what you need me to do.”

“I’ve found that the most effective way to rouse our darlings is by picking them up and holding them in my arms.”

He nodded. “So you’d like me to hand them to you, then?”

“ _No._ I want you to hold one while I hold the other. We’re doing this together, soldier.”

“Aye, sir,” Seb replied. He was about to ask which child he should take, when Jim answered the question by scooping up their daughter and leaving Eddie for him to bear.

“Hiiiiii,” the Irishman greeted. “How’s my princess?”

Essie gurgled softly, her delicate eyelids fluttering open. She squinted, adjusting to the light of the room before focusing on her Daddy’s face. Recognizing his features, scent, and voice, she cooed.

Now it was Moran’s turn. Lifting Edward into his embrace, the boy yawned groggily and let out a tiny grunt.

“Hello, dearest. I do hope you had a satisfying sleep.”

The assassin moved to wipe a small dab of drool from the corner of his son’s mouth. When he did, the infant latched onto his thumb, sucking intently.    

“Wow, this is new.”

“It’s reflexive,” Jim stated. “He has an instinct to suckle.”

“Oh. That’s actually pretty cute.”

Eventually, Seb pulled his finger away and Eddie groused.

“Honey, I’m sorry, but I need my thumb back.”

Still, the baby was cross, flashing him a grumpy glare. 

“Hey Magpie, he may have my smile, but he’s got your scowl down pat.”

Moriarty rolled his eyes. “Ha-ha, very funny. Instead of making wisecracks, why don’t you try rocking him?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I think it’s wonderful that you two take such a hands-on approach with your children,” Jack remarked. “My husband works long hours and isn’t home often enough to really pitch in.”

“Will he be present today?” Jim inquired. “I’m interested to finally meet him.”

“Gary’s finishing up a few odds and ends at the office. No worries, though, he’ll be here. He wouldn’t miss his son’s party.”

“Can pway wit’ baybuhs now?”  

“Soon, sweetie. And you’ll have to be careful, because they’re too young for any roughhousing,” Jack explained. 

“Otay, mumma. Nu wanna huwt dem.”

After a few minutes of rocking and gentle interaction, the twins were both cognizant and calm. Jim and Sebastian returned to a sitting position with the babies in their laps.

“Come say hello,” the genius encouraged, smiling warmly at Reginald.

The toddler approached, his gaze darting back and forth between the newborns. “Which baybuh which?”

“This is Essie I’ve got here,” Jim clarified, “and that’s Eddie,” he indicated by nodding in Seb’s direction.

“Fanks.” He reached out and started petting Estella’s dark hair, mindful not to disturb her headband.

Moriarty was surprised at the child’s method of affection. It was reminiscent of the way one might stroke a—

“Dis how I pwayed wit’ Coco’s puppies,” he proudly announced.

Jack laughed. “Coco’s my sister-in-law’s dog,” the host informed his guests. “She had pups earlier this year and Reggie got to visit them before they were adopted out.”

“Ah, I see.” Jim turned his attention to the birthday boy once more. “Well, these little darlings are _not_ the same as a dog. You can hold their hands or play peekaboo. They like having their feet peddled, too.”

“How ‘bout hugs?”

“Oh, yes. They adoooore hugs and snuggles. You’re welcome to give them some, so long as you don’t squeeze too tight.”

Reggie didn’t need to be told twice. He stood on his tiptoes to reach the consulting criminal’s lap. His small arms wrapped around Estella while Jim made sure to support her head and neck.

“Baybuh smells good. Wike powda and…” he stopped, stuck on how to finish the sentence.

“Like powder and roses,” Moriarty said, completing the boy’s thought. “I’ve been using an all-natural botanical shampoo on both of them. It’s impressive that you could discern two separate scents.”

“Weggie smawt. Mumma says genius.”

“I think your mum is correct.” He glanced at Jack, and the two exchanged a knowing look. Jim knew full well the pitfalls of being young and brilliant, but perhaps with the guidance of his family, Reginald would fare better than he had.

Essie began kicking her legs playfully and locked eyes with the little boy.  

“Wish you could tawk,” he lamented.

“She’ll learn to speak soon enough.” Moriarty was excited about the many milestones his children were due to achieve in the coming months, speech being among them.

“Essie nice,” the tot decreed.

“Yes, she is. You’ll get no argument from me.”

“Care to hug Eddie, too?” Sebastian asked. He didn’t want his son left out.

“Wuv to!”

Reggie moved on to the other twin, embracing Edward this time. The infant squealed happily in response.

“You wike dat? Yay!”

When he pulled away, Eddie outstretched an arm, as if trying to beckon him back. Reg reached for the newborn’s hand and gasped on contact.

“Baybuh skin sooo soft!”

The couple chuckled at the boy’s priceless reaction.

“Just think,” Jack began, “it won’t be long until we have a baby here at home that you can see all the time.”

“Can’t wait to pway wi—” He abruptly stopped in mid-sentence, spotting something from across the room. Or rather, someone. “DADDA!”

Reginald went running towards the finely dressed man who’d just walked through the front door. He giggled with delight as his father lifted him into his arms and kissed him on the forehead.

“Happy birthday, my dear.”

“Fank you, Dadda! Dis parwty fo’ me!” he exclaimed, beaming joyfully.

“That’s right, love. We’re celebrating you.”

Gary trekked over to the trio of men sitting in his living room, carrying Reggie along with him. When he met up with Jack, he gave him a peck on the cheek.

“You’ve done a magnificent job decorating the place, hon.”

“It was the least I could do. Our son deserves only the best.”

“Agreed.”

“Now that you’re here, I’d like to introduce you to some friends.”

“Splendid,” he replied. “Any friend of yours is a friend of mi—” The barrister’s expression dropped when he turned and got a good look at the duo. He hadn’t really paid attention to their faces until that moment.

An awkward silence settled upon them, and it was clear that Gary disapproved of Jack’s guests.

Moriarty rose to his feet, undeterred. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your husband’s spoken very highly of you.”

“ _You’re_ the Jim from his MOPS group?” he asked incredulously.

“I am, yes.”

Gary’s eyes darted to Sebastian. “And you’re his partner?”

“Yep.”

The man was silent for a few seconds, processing the revelation. Never in a million years did he imagine that his omega would befriend the likes of James Moriarty and company.

“Is there a problem?” Jack prodded.

“To put it mildly.” There most certainly was a problem— a big one at that. As a Queen’s Counsel barrister, these men were diametrically opposite him on life’s spectrum. He was galled by their presence in his home and could not believe his spouse would fraternize with known criminals.

“If our being here bothers you that much, we can go,” the mastermind declared. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t kowtow to anyone, but this is Reggie’s big day and I don’t want to ruin it for him by causing a row.”  

“Yes, do that. Leave before the other partygoers arrive. You don’t have long— I saw a few cars pulling up to the driveway when I walked in.”

“Gary!” Jack objected. “I invited them. How dare you send them away!”

“Nu wan dem to go!” his toddler bleated, squirming to be put back down on the floor.

The man sighed heavily. He didn’t wish to engage in an argument at his son’s soiree either. “Fine. You can stay. But we’re having a conversation about this later, Jack.”

“Must we? I don’t think there’s a whole lot to say.”

“Oh, trust me, there’s plenty to discuss.” 

Jack scowled bitterly. There’d be a squabble later, but for now, both of them would set their feelings aside for Reginald’s sake.

With tensions running high, Jim said nothing more to Gary, instead addressing Seb. “Give me Eddie. I’ll take the babies for their nappy change.”

“The nursery’s down the hall and to the left,” Jack was quick to inform. “You can use the changing table in there.”

“Thanks.” At that, he ventured off with his darlings.

 Once Moriarty was gone, Sebastian stared daggers at his host’s husband. He wanted to eviscerate the son of a bitch for treating them so rudely, but he refused to stir up drama at what was intended to be a happy event. Didn’t mean he couldn’t envision beating the shite out of him, though.

DING-DONG.

The doorbell chimed and Jack went to greet the first wave of guests. While he dealt with the sudden influx of attendees, Gary took their pajama-clad son to get properly dressed. Reggie appeared unfazed by the newfound friction surrounding him, skipping merrily alongside his father.

Seb decided to make himself useful and assist Jim with the twins. He got about halfway down the hall when he realized that he hadn’t seen the Irishman bring either of the diaper bags with him. He’d left in a huff, simply storming from the room without much forethought.

_I’d better go back for them._

As he neared the area where the party was being held, he froze at the sound of a familiar voice. It belonged to someone he hadn’t encountered in years and had hoped never to see again.

_It can’t be. Lots of people have similar voices, right? Right._

Hedging his bets, the sniper surreptitiously peered into the living room from the doorway. To his dismay, he saw that his first assumption was correct— this was indeed the man he’d prayed it not be. A rush of emotions coursed through him, threatening calamity. 

_How the hell am I going to tell Jim that Mycroft Holmes is a guest at this party?_

 

To Be Continued… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reggie had too many lines for me to provide a "baby talk" translation this time. If anyone is confused by a specific piece of dialogue, just let me know and I'll clarify it. 
> 
> Also, I may have gone a little overboard with the toddler speech. I apologize if it's annoying to anyone. I'll try to cut back on it in the future.


	106. Party Time – Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian encounter a mixed bag of events at the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian’s day was in rapid decline. First, he and Jim were in attendance at a party where their host’s husband had expressed outright disdain towards them. Next, the sniper discovered that an old adversary, Mycroft Holmes, was present at the very same soiree. And now, he faced the unenviable task of breaking the news to Moriarty.

On top of all that, he still had to retrieve the twins’ diaper bags from the living room without being seen by his enemy. Thankfully, Seb possessed expert stealth and could pull it off if he kept his wits about him.

The former colonel continued to peek out from the doorway, readying to make a move. When he saw the eldest Holmes sibling turn his back to chat with someone, he sprang into action. Rarely had Moran maneuvered as fast as he did in that moment. Inside the span of a few seconds, he was able to dart out, grab the necessary items, and return to the seclusion of the hall.

On his trek to the nursery, he thought about how he’d tell Jim that Mycroft was at hand. There was no way to put a positive spin on the situation. Given this new information, it was possible the mastermind might want to leave. If so, that was fine by Seb— he’d support whatever decision his mate made.

Finally, Moran reached his target destination. He entered the room and was startled at what he found. It wasn’t too unusual to see Jim in a rocking chair, cradling both babies. The worrying part was that this time, he had tears in his eyes while doing so.

“Kitten? Are you okay?”

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, averting Seb’s gaze. “You weren’t supposed to see me like this.”

The blonde approached his sullen spouse, setting the diaper bags in front of him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You left these behind. I thought I’d bring them over.”

“Thank you.”

_My poor Magpie. He feels bad enough already. How can I deliver news that will only make things worse?_

“Shall I help you with our little ones?” Seb gently inquired.

“Sure.”

Moriarty stood up and laid the twins on the changing table. He then dug into the bags and took out the needed supplies. Together, they tended to their children in silence.

The quiet surrounding them was broken when music from the party began to play. It was a pop tune from the ‘80s that Seb was certain Jim loved. Even so, it garnered no response from him now.         

“Honey, I’m sorry Jack’s husband was such a twat. Just say the word and I’ll knock his teeth out. He’ll be taking meals through a straw when I’m done with him.”

“Tempting,” the genius remarked, “but I can’t do that to Reggie. You saw how much he adores his father. If we hurt Gary, we hurt him too.”

Sebastian sighed, knowing Jim was right. It wouldn’t be fair to the boy, especially on his birthday. Still, he despised feeling so completely ineffectual. When someone aggrieved his omega, he wanted to strike back. Nay, he wanted to _destroy._

“I don’t know why this is bothering me,” Moriarty admitted. “Maybe it’s postpartum hormones at work.” 

“Could be,” Moran mused. “Or perhaps it’s because you actually consider Jack a friend and hoped you’d get along with his partner.”

“Either way, I shouldn’t have expected anything. Ordinary people are always a disappointment.” He hesitated, staring down at his precious progeny. Essie and Eddie were freshened up and ready to mingle. “We’d best head back so the babies can make their debut.”

 _Shite._ Seb had to say something now. No way could he allow Jim to walk into that party unawares.  

“Magpie, wait. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Well, I don’t much care to see Gary, but there are other guests worth sticking around for.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Jack informed me that the headmaster of a very prestigious private school would be attending today’s gathering. I thought I might lay the foundation for our darlings to gain favor with him.”

“Ah, interesting.” _Too bad Jack didn’t provide a full list of invitees._

“I’ll take Edward, you take Estella,” he instructed. “I do wish I’d brought the sling carrier,” he lamented aloud. “No matter, we can simply wheel them around in the stroller. It will be divine. Who could resist smiles like theirs?” Indeed, the babies were beaming at him as he spoke. “They’re so happy, Seb.” Moriarty paused as a new resolve washed over him. “Screw Gary and his self-righteous attitude. We’ll show off our sweethearts with impunity. Rub his nose in it. Come on.”  

“Jimmy, let’s not rush.”

“The party’s started. I see no reason to dawdle.”

 _You would if you knew who was out there._ “Hon, please wait a second.”

“Why?” The consulting criminal was getting impatient. “Our children are good to go and so am I.”

“I need to talk to you first.”

He arched a brow. “About what?”

Sebastian inhaled sharply, steeling himself for the hell that was sure to follow. “About the party. More specifically, one of the guests.”

“Go on, I’m listening.”

“After you left, people began to arrive. I was headed to assist you when I recognized a voice coming from the living room.”

Jim’s face crinkled in confusion. “Whose voice? Where are you going with this?”

It was now or never. Time to speak the truth and let the chips fall where they may.

“I peered out from the doorway and saw that it was Mycroft,” he blurted out. “Mycroft Holmes is here.”

The room went dead silent at Seb’s declaration, while music from the festivities could still be heard in the background. Moriarty was rendered utterly speechless.

“I’m as surprised as you are,” the sniper noted.

A million things raced through Jim’s mind. He wanted to lash out. Wanted to accuse his mate of lying to him. Wanted to do a great many things that would not actually help the situation, and were in fact manifestations of old, toxic habits he’d worked so hard to overcome. Instead, the Irishman hastily looked away, focusing on those beautiful babies who continued to gaze up at him from the changing table. His eyes connected with theirs, and in a flash, he felt a sense of calm.

“Let’s not waste another minute,” Jim said. He turned to face his better half once again. “We’ve schmoozing to do and impressions to make.”

Of all the reactions Moran might’ve expected, this was the absolute last. “Magpie, are you certain? We don’t have to go back out there. We could leave right now and it would be completely understandable.”

“Why should we deny our children their first real social engagement on account of a pompous arse like Mycroft?”

“Jimmy…he had you kidnapped and tortured.”

“Yes, I recall the incident quite vividly. What’s your point?”

“Aren’t you afraid that if he learns about the babies, he’ll do the same to them?”

Moriarty chuckled darkly. “Oh, my dearest Sebastian. Assuming everyone is as wicked as we are. It’s adooorable.” The madcap omega moved to stroke his partner’s cheek. “Mycroft is a bastard of the highest order, but at the end of the day, he’s on the side of the angels.”

“Forgive me if I’m unconvinced. I put nothing past any member of the Holmes clan. The whole lot of them are trouble, and _not_ the fun kind.”     

“Tiger, he couldn’t touch our little ones even if he wanted to. Have you somehow forgotten the extensive security operation currently underway at our home? Or the bodyguards who trailed us here and are parked a mere block away, ready to intervene at the drop of a text?”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten,” the assassin was quick to retort. “ _I’m_ the one who brought in specialized help, after all. But even so—”

“No ‘buts,’ Sebby. There isn’t a person on this earth who’ll get to Essie and Eddie without our consent, Mycroft or otherwise. We won’t let them.”

Jim’s confidence proved inspiring. Seb found himself persuaded by his husband’s sentiments, taking to heart the notion that they wielded total protection of their children. As an alpha, all he ever wanted was the enduring safety of his omega and their kin. 

“Okay,” Moran answered. “We’re in this together, as a family.”

“Always, my sweet.”

At that, the duo cradled their cubs close and exited the nursery. They strode through the hall, side-by-side, prepared to join the party with their heads held high.

*********

London’s most formidable men made a splash at young Reginald Norridge’s birthday bash. As the consulting criminal predicted, guests went gaga for the twins. Never had so many ‘awws’ been registered in the span of a single afternoon.

Among the highlights were Reggie’s playgroup, who fawned over the ‘baybuhs’ rather cutely; Marcus Chambers, headmaster of Pembridge Academy, who was impressed by the newborns’ responsiveness to direct speech and communication; and Lucinda North, a retired advertising mogul who tried to coax the couple into submitting Edward and Estella for modeling work. Naturally, they declined the suggestion, but it was flattering that an industry professional saw such potential in their progeny.

Meanwhile, Jim and Seb had no verbal contact with Mycroft so far. They definitely saw each other, though.

“I don’t like the way he looked at you,” Moran grumbled.

“You don’t like the way anyone looks at me.”

“Because you’re for my eyes only.”

Moriarty grinned devilishly. “Ooh, possessive Tiger. How very… _enticing_.” He paused, noticing his partner seemed on edge. “Here,” he said, offering a generous glass of cabernet. “It’ll help you relax.”

“I’d rather it was whiskey.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers. Now drink up.”

The sniper did as directed, swallowing down the wine faster than he probably should’ve. “Now what?”

“Now, my love, we dance.”

Sebastian barely had a moment to process what was going on as Jim grasped him by the hand and dragged him out to the area of the room designated for dancing. He pulled the stroller along as well, parking it on the sidelines so he could keep an eye on their children.

The opening strands of _‘The Pina Colada Song’_ began to play and Seb immediately balked. “Oh, hell no. I’m not dancing to this.”

“But you are, Sebby. You arrrrrre.”

Moran struggled to suppress a laugh at the smaller man’s drawl. “Kitten, you sound like a bloody pirate.”

“Maybe I am, matey,” Moriarty teased. He nestled against the dashing blonde, and soon the pair was swaying in time to the music.

“I’d believe it. Pirates are well-known for pillaging and plundering. You fit the description nicely, seeing as how you stole my heart.”

The genius grew coy at his husband’s honeyed words. In his whole life, no one ever got to him the way Seb did. It was as if the assassin was part man and part creature of myth, able to accomplish the impossible.   

“We should do this more often,” Moran remarked. “It feels good to hold you…have you melt in my arms.”

“Yes, it does.” His alpha’s embrace was a place of serenity and bliss; a paradise in which he could seek refuge from the ills of the world.

The duo remained on the dance floor for quite a while, savoring the simple joy of each other. Time almost seemed to stop as their bodies moved from melody to melody in a seamless fashion. It became more than just dancing— it was a celebration of love, life, and the ineffable bond between two broken souls who forged something beautiful when brought together.

Eventually, it was announced that after a short intermission, the cake would be cut and the presents opened. Jim and Seb seized the opportunity to break away from the crowd and tend to their personal needs— a trip to the loo and a step outside for some fresh air, respectively.

The temperature was crisp, but not overly cold when Moran ventured out. He took a deep breath, relieved to put distance between himself and the highfalutin partygoers inside. Though this may have been Jim’s kind of soiree, it certainly wasn’t Sebastian’s. Forget caviar and cabernet. What the former colonel preferred were bacon cheeseburgers and frothy beer. Still, if it made his spouse happy, he would oblige.  

As he casually wandered the perimeter of the mansion, a familiar scent billowed through the breeze. _Marlboro’s._ Before Moriarty insisted he quit smoking, they were his brand of choice. It surprised him to think that any of today’s guests would indulge in such a frowned upon habit. Curious, he followed the smell.

He was getting closer. Closer. Closer.

STOP.

 _No._ This couldn’t be. And yet it was.

Mycroft Holmes was standing at the back of the house, taking a long, slow drag off a cigarette.

The man turned and looked right at him, his expression unreadable. “I’d offer you a smoke, but this is my last one.”

Sebastian stood in stunned silence.

“Not much of a conversationalist, aye? I suppose Moriarty keeps you around for less cerebral purposes.”

“Hey!” he objected. “Shut your mouth. You don’t know the first thing about us.”

“I’m aware of more than you’d ever dare dream.”

Moran clenched his fists as he tried not to fly into a rage. There was something about the Holmes siblings that was just so damned punchable.

“I admit, it’s a surprise to see the two of you at an event like this. Gary doesn’t typically abide the criminal element.”

“We’re guests of Jack’s,” Sebastian muttered through gritted teeth.

“Ah,” he said, exhaling a plume of smoke, “I might’ve guessed that much based on his current state of pregnancy and your _new additions_. He and Jim probably met at some function for expectant omegas, am I right?”

The sniper was unnerved by Mycroft’s accuracy, but refused to show any signs of intimidation. “That’s correct. Are you so desperate as to keep tabs on him these days?”

“Hardly. It was a deduction of logic and inference,” the eldest Holmes declared. “I’ve no need to track Moriarty. Rumors of his ‘condition’ were widely speculated for months, and I received confirmation that it was true ages ago.”

 _Received confirmation? How?_ _From whom?_   Seb paused, a thought dawning on him. _Sherlock._ Fucking Sherlock must’ve ratted them out.  

“By the way, those whelps of yours are fairly adorable. A quick word of advice, though— I wouldn’t attempt to deny their parentage. One look at the boy and it’s obvious who his father is.”

“I’d _never_ deny my children,” Moran protested indignantly. “What kind of alpha do you take me for?”

“I mean no insult. Simply put, in your line of work, people often claim to be unattached. Personal relations are a liability one can’t afford.”

“My family isn’t a ‘liability,’ you prig.”

“Aren’t they? I think we both know the exacting toll of pressure points.” 

“Fuck you.”

“Discourse clearly isn’t your strong suit,” he scoffed. “Perhaps it’s best you not even try.”

That did it. Mycroft’s condescending attitude was the last straw. The final piece necessary to unleash Sebastian’s unbridled hatred of all things Holmes. His fist swung fiercely, making contact with the man’s jaw. He landed a blow so potent, it knocked the cigarette from his mouth.

For a fleeting moment, the former colonel was invigorated. Soon, though, reality set in. _Oh no. What have I done? Jim’s going to be mad as hell._  

Panicked, Seb ran to his car. There was no way he could enter that house again, not after assaulting one of the Norridge’s guests. No matter how much of a grudge he had against Holmes, it didn’t excuse his behavior.

_I always find a way to fuck things up._

*********

Following Moran’s violent indiscretion, he phoned Moriarty to explain what occurred. The Irishman was livid, but maintained an appearance of civility as he excused himself from the party, citing a private emergency, and conscripted Jack’s staff to haul their belongings to the Mercedes so they could depart early.

They began to drive home in awkward silence, with Jim sitting in the backseat with the twins. Though the genius said nothing, he was projecting anger in waves. Seb knew he needed to fix the situation somehow. 

The assassin pulled over to the side of the road and shut off the engine. He and his mate were going to talk this out here and now.

“What are you doing?” Jim demanded.

“Parking, so that we can discuss what went down a little while ago.”

“Sebastian,” he sharply addressed, “the things I’d like to say to you should not be spoken in front of our children.”

“Please, hear me out.”

“Why should I, huh? You had _one_ job today. _One._ Accompany me and the babies to a social event. I didn’t think that was such a tall order. Apparently, I gave you too much credit.”

The blonde sighed in frustration. “Yes, I screwed up. Mycroft pushed my buttons and I reacted badly. I admit it and I’m sorry.”

“Good, you ought to be. That man is an unbearable twat, but this was a child’s birthday party, for Christ’s sake. You didn’t see the heartbreak on Reggie’s face when he saw that I was leaving right as they were about to cut the cake. He actually cried, Seb. It was awful.”

Moran frowned. “I’d take it back if I could.” Guilt weighed heavily on him. Reggie was a very sweet boy and did not deserve to suffer because of his mistake.     

“Me too, but unless you’ve somehow gained access to a time machine, it’s rather impossible.”

Seb contemplated the mess he’d made, wracking his brain to come up with a way to make amends. “Magpie, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to show you how regretful I am. I’ll do anything you want, without complaint.”

The consulting criminal peered intently at his partner. “Anything?”

“You name it.”

“ESPA Life.”

“Hmm?” He was confused as to what Jim meant.

“ESPA Life,” Moriarty repeated, sounding annoyed that Sebastian didn’t immediately understand him. “It’s a spa at the Corinthia hotel, among the best in London.”   

“Okay. What about it?”

“I want to go there for an all-day treatment package. Sauna, massage, mud wrap— the works. You’ll watch the babies while I’m gone.”

“Sure, I’d be glad to. It’ll be nice to have some one-on-one time with our darlings.”

“There’s more.”

“Go on.”

“I also insist that you apologize to Jack and Reggie. Formally, not just via text message.”

He nodded. “I agree wholeheartedly. An apology is in order.”

“You’ll bring them a peace offering as well. Specifically, a box of confectioneries from _Artisan du Chocolat_.”

“I can do that, absolutely.”

Jim’s mouth upturned into a lopsided smirk. He had his husband wrapped around his finger and it was delicious. “Excellent. I’ll make the necessary arrangements when we get home.”

The couple resumed their commute, both feeling less burdened than before. Moriarty had been precise in his instructions and Seb would comply as best he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry it took so long for me to get this installment done. I had a personal situation during the week that threw me off. I hope to return to a more normal schedule soon. 
> 
> Also, I'd like to give a special shout-out to Tinemo, as the last part of the chapter was a direct result of a suggestion she made.


	107. R, R, & R – Part 1: Rest, Relaxation, and Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim goes to a spa while Sebastian prepares to watch the twins. Later, sinister alliances are made between mutually monstrous individuals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Jim said. He was in the nursery, staring at his beautiful babies while they napped.

“Nonsense, honey. You’ve been looking forward to your appointment all week. It’ll be great.”

The consulting criminal had booked a private suite at London’s premier _ESPA Life_ spa, and convinced his protégé, Ian, to accompany him. It was intended to be something of an “Omega Relaxation Day.” The trouble was, it also meant leaving his children behind. Since their birth, he’d remained in fairly close proximity to them at all times. Today, though, they would be separated by a significant distance.

“It’s just…” he paused, watching as Essie smiled in her sleep. She was swaddled snugly in one of the blankets he’d knitted. “I haven’t even left and I miss them already. God, that sounds stupid when I say it out loud. I’m the one who wanted to go, and yet here I am, dragging my heels.”

Sebastian wrapped an arm around his anxious partner’s shoulders. “It’s not stupid in the least. You’re very devoted to them. But, my dear, it’s also important that you focus on yourself now and then.”      

He let out a halfhearted chuckle. “Funny, the only one I used to focus on _was_ myself. Now I’ve gotten flipped around and all I can think about are these two slumbering bundles of ours. I wake up, and my first thoughts are of them. I’m so excited to see their sweet, cheerful faces every morning,” he confessed. “We have a routine, the babies and me. I change them, feed them, and then we play— usually peekaboo or sock puppets. They giggle up a storm, and once they’ve tuckered out, they go down for a nap. After that, I wait.”

“Wait for what, kitten?”

“For whatever they need. If either one makes a peep, I’m at their side, ready to assist. Daddy’s always there.”

“I can do that, too. You don’t have to worry.”

“I know you can, and it’s good for the three of you to spend quality time together. Still, I find it difficult to walk away.”

“That’s understandable.” Omegas often formed deep attachments to their young. In this case, Jim was no different.

“I insist you keep me posted every hour, on the hour.”

“If that will ease your mind, okay. I’ll give you full reports throughout the day.”

“Photos as well.”

“Huh?”

“I want you to take their pictures along with the hourly updates. Make sure the flash is off— we mustn’t risk damaging their eyes.”

“You got it, hon.” Seb thought the genius was going a tad overboard, but again, if that’s what it took to placate him, so be it. 

Moriarty glanced at his watch. He still wore the amethyst dial Rolex his mate had gifted him all those months ago. “Ian should be arriving soon. I already informed security that he was coming to give me a lift.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a splendid time.”

“Hope so.” He hesitated for a moment. “I want to say goodbye to our sugar plums. They might get scared when they wake up and I’m not here. I need to assure them I’ll return.”

Sebastian stifled a laugh. “Sugar plums? Really?”

“Yes. Now help me situate them. I want to hold both at once.”

The sniper complied, aiding in the twins’ safe transfer from their cribs to Jim’s arms. The switchover went surprisingly well, as little Edward and Estella reacted with minimal complaint. They grumbled slightly at first, but calmed when they recognized the Irishman.

“Hello, darlings. Sorry to disturb you, but I thought we should have a small chat.” The infants gazed up at him, their expressions groggy and serene. “My goodness, the two of you are looking cute. That’s going to make this even harder.” He took a breath, soldiering on. “Daddy’s going out with a friend and won’t be around much today. I promise I’ll be back by this evening. There’s no way I’d miss your bath and bedtime.”

“You’ll get to spend the day with me,” Seb chimed in.

“That’s right,” the mastermind affirmed. “You’re very lucky— your Papa is one of the coolest blokes in the world and you have the privilege of hanging out with him.”

Eddie snorted while Essie yawned. As responses go, they seemed rather unfazed.

“I do believe they’d prefer to be snoozing,” Moran observed.

“Perhaps. Growing babies need their rest.” Jim leaned down to give each of them a kiss. They were more receptive to this gesture than they were the conversation, cooing happily in reply. “You like that, aye? My little cuddlebugs.” Encouraged, he pressed his forehead to theirs, rubbing noses affectionately.

Seb grinned with delight at the sweet sight of his family. The love shared between them was immensely rewarding.

 BZZ. BZZ.

Moriarty’s phone buzzed.

“Tiger, I’m guessing that’s probably Ian. Reach your hand into my pocket and check.”

The assassin did as directed, and sure enough, it was the teen texting to say he was parked in front of the house.

“I’m afraid I must depart now, dearies. Behave for your Papa and try not to get too upset if he doesn’t do something quite the way I would. He means well.”

“Hey, give me some credit. I’m certain I’ll do as good a job as you.”

“Riiiiight.”

“It’s true.” He hadn’t initially viewed this as a competition, but his spouse’s words compelled him to prove himself.

“Let’s not quibble. My ride is waiting.”

The duo returned the twins to their cribs and Moriarty prepared to leave. Before he walked out the door, Sebastian stopped him.

“Magpie?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for providing me an opportunity to bond with our children. You needn’t have any doubts— I intend to do my absolute best.”

“I’m sure you will. Just don’t forget those hourly updates.” 

“Of course.” Without warning, he pressed his lips to Jim’s, snogging him soundly. “One for the road.”

The genius smiled. “We’re picking back up on that when I get home.”

“It’d be my pleasure.”

“Oh, it’ll be both our pleasures, trust me.” On that wanton note, he exited.   

Moran grunted huskily. _Kitten loves to play._ His husband was such a tease sometimes, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t relish every minute of it. 

*********

“You actually got him to go back there the next day and apologize?” Ian asked, marveling at the story Jim told about Reggie’s birthday party and Seb’s all too eager fists.

“Yep. Complete with a box of gourmet chocolates as recompense.”

“That’s priceless.”

“Indeed, it was.”

The consulting criminal and his young friend were chatting it up after having received facials. They reclined alongside each other, lounging in robes while sporting mud masks on their skin and cucumber slices over their eyes.

“So how are you doing personally?” Moriarty prodded. “I feel like I’ve been so busy with the babies, I haven’t had time to properly talk to anyone.”

“I’m mostly okay. Been assembling a nursery at the loft.”

“Ooh, tell me more.”

“There’s not a whole lot to say. I’ve got the basics in place— a bassinet, changing table, and rocking chair. Nothing fancy, but I think the room’s coming together fine.”

“If you require decorating assistance, I’d be happy to help,” the Irishman stated. He always had an eye for interior design.

“Thanks. That’s a generous offer.”

There was a brief pause as Jim contemplated something. “Hey, Ian? You said you were ‘mostly’ happy.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s got me wondering, why aren’t you _totally_ happy? What’s holding you back?”

The teen inhaled a sharp breath, tensing at the question. “It’s complicated.”

“Let me hear the problem and perhaps I can simplify it for you.” 

“I’m not sure about that,” he timidly spoke.

“Try me and we’ll see.”

“Well…I…uh…it’s…”

“Ian, I’m making an honest attempt to be supportive here, but if you don’t spit out a real sentence soon, I may have to administer a swift kick to your shin.”  

He sighed heavily. “I think I’m being watched.”

Moriarty was momentarily speechless, taken aback by the declaration. Yes, the youth had been among Colin and Annie’s targets, but now there were guards assigned to monitor the building he lived in. If someone was surveilling him, surely they would’ve been caught.

“Elaborate, please.”   

“For starters, I should note that nobody’s actually approached me or left any overt evidence. I just have this eerie sense that someone’s there, lurking and looking. I tried to shake it off at first, but it won’t let up.”

“Where’s this happening at?”

“All over,” he answered in exasperation. “Outside headquarters, at the grocery store, at the park— pretty much everywhere.” 

“Hmm.” Could his and Seb’s stalkers be pursuing Ian? Anything was possible. “When did this begin?”   

“About two weeks ago. A part of me thinks I’m being paranoid, but after the incident with my car, I can’t be too careful.”

The mastermind nodded. “Better safe than sorry,” he agreed. “Would you like me to provide you with a security detail for when you’re out in public?”

“I don’t know if I want to go that far. As I said, there’s no concrete evidence. I’m just spooked.”

“Right. It’s your call. I’m here, though, should you need anything.”

“I appreciate it, Jim. You’ve done more for me in the short time we’ve been acquainted than anyone else in my life ever has.”

“Yes, well, helping others is a relatively new endeavor of mine. It’s not something I practiced until recently.”

“Whatever the circumstance, I’m grateful to be on the receiving end.”

KNOCK. KNOCK.

A spa attendant peeked into Moriarty’s luxury suite. “Hello, gentlemen. Maybe I come in?”

“Certainly,” he replied, unable to meet the woman in the eye due to the cucumber covering his lids.

“I thought I’d pop in and give you a quick rundown of the next few treatments. Up ahead you’ve got a massage, seaweed wrap, sauna, aromatherapy, and salt scrub.”

“Oh,” Ian commented, “I can’t do some of those. Saunas and wraps aren’t recommended during pregnancy.”

“That’s fine. You’re under no obligation to participate in every activity. All treatments are optional.”

“I won’t be partaking in some of those either,” Jim announced.  

“Why not?” the young man inquired. “You’ve already pre-paid. Might as well get your money’s worth.”

“I insisted you come along. It’s only fair that I show some solidarity.”

“I guess…I just don’t want you to have a shitty time because of me.”

“I’m having a faaaaabulous time, dear. If I wasn’t, you’d know.”  

“So which treatments are you two abstaining from?” the employee asked, seeking clarification.

Moriarty deferred to his friend. “You tell her, Ian. I’d rather not risk leaving something important out.”

“Uh…okay.” The shy omega nervously assumed command of the conversation. “Could…could I hear that list again?”

*********

Not far from the _ESPA Life_ spa, Annie sat in a vehicle on stakeout. Such activities were nothing new— she'd tracked people many times before. Today, though, the assignment was a bit different. As absurd as it sounded, she was now stalking a stalker.

While keeping tabs on Ian, she’d noticed a man who was consistently present. No matter where she followed the teen, this person appeared too, shadowing from the sidelines.

It made Annie curious. She genuinely wanted to know what was going on. Colin discouraged her from contacting the individual, claiming that the less people they interacted with, the better. His warning went unheeded.

Using binoculars, she peered at him from across the street. The guy looked to be in his early to mid-30s. He was tall, brooding, and wore sunglasses and an Aston Villa football cap— not altogether unattractive, if she was being honest.    

“Who are you?” she muttered to herself. It was time to find out.

Annie emerged from her car and began a trek towards the mystery man. When she reached him, he was casually leaning against a lamppost, staring at the hotel that housed the spa.

How would she break the ice? It was an odd situation, to be sure. No etiquette book in the world featured a chapter on making introductions of this nature.

“Hey, mister?” Annie finally addressed. “You got a minute?”

He turned to the woman. “Not really. I’m busy.”

“Yeah, you look like you’re doing a whole lot standing over here,” she sarcastically remarked.

“Sod off. Whatever you’ve come to bother me about, I’m not interested.”

“Oh, I beg to disagree. I think you’d be positively fascinated by what I have to say.”

“Bloody unlikely,” he spat. “In my experience, the only people who approach someone point-blank with that kind of pitch are bible thumpers and prostitutes.”

“I’m neither of those.”

“Then what’s your game? Explain fast, because I’m only going to ask you once.”

Sensing his agitation, she blurted out a name. “Ian Fitzgerald.”

That did the trick. Perhaps a little too well, as he gripped her arm harshly and pulled her aside.  

“How do you know Ian?” he demanded.

“He’s a former co-worker of mine.”

“Co-worker? Where at?” There was an unnerving intensity to his tone.

“James Moriarty’s headquarters.” Annie answered truthfully, wanting to gauge his response before proceeding further.

The man’s grasp tightened even more at the mention of Jim. “Did he send you? Or was it his bastard of a mate?”

 _Bingo._ It sounded like he had a definite grudge against the couple.

“Let’s go somewhere to discuss this. I’ll tell you my story and you can tell me yours.” She was taking a gamble by inviting a third party into the fold, but thought it was worth the risk. As her and Colin’s endgame grew closer, they could use all the help they could get.

He considered her proposal. “Okay. I work at _The Golden Anchor_. Swing by and we’ll have a chat.”

“You got it.” She paused, realizing she hadn’t given him her name. “I’m Annie, by the way.”

“Good to know. I’m Luke.”

  

 

To Be Continued…   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for what twists and turns unfold as Seb cares for the twins in Jim's absence.


	108. R, R, & R – Part 2: Rest, Relaxation, and Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has a minor freak-out at the spa. Later, Sebastian is thrown for a loop while caring for the babies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“I never knew my muscles could feel like this,” Ian proclaimed.

“Like what?” asked Jim.

“Tension-free.”

The duo was engaging in a bit of downtime time after having undergone a Swedish massage as part of their spa treatment. 

“Really worked out the knots, aye?”

“And then some.”

“A good massage is something to be savored. I still remember my first professional one. Well actually, semi-professional,” Moriarty clarified. “I knew a bloke in college who was training to get a kinesiology degree. He used to practice various techniques on me. God, that man was amaaaazing with his hands.”

Ian chuckled. “You’ve got a story for everything.”

“Live long enough and so will you.” He paused a moment, pulling out his phone. “Shite,” he exclaimed, his expression dropping.

“What’s the matter?”

“My mobile is dead.”

“I hate it when that happens.”

“You don’t understand. Seb’s supposed to send me updates about the babies while I’m gone.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Yeah.” Jim stopped and considered something. “Let me use your phone. I’ll call him and explain the situation. He can forward the updates to your number instead.”

“Not a bad idea, but I didn’t bring my mobile in here with me. It’s locked in the glovebox of my car, wherever the valet chose to park it.”

“Why would you leave it behind?”

“Because when you said we were going to a spa, I wanted it to be an immersive experience. No outside distractions.”

“Fuck. This is a bloody disaster.”

“Wait a minute,” the young man spoke. “Try to calm down. Maybe this doesn’t have to be the end of the world.”

“You’re right. There might be a phone at the check-in desk I can use.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m saying maybe it’s okay if you guys can’t get in touch, because things will probably be fine. Your husband seems pretty great to me. I’m sure he’ll take excellent care of your children.”

Moriarty sighed. The teen wasn’t wrong. Sebastian was a standup mate in every way. There was no reason to think he wouldn’t be able to handle their little ones for a day. Still, he felt uneasy. But why?

“You’re absolutely correct. I couldn’t ask for a more wonderful alpha. However, that alone doesn’t remedy my worry. When you have Matilda, you’ll see.”

“Fair enough. Is that what you’d like to do, then? Request access to the front desk phone?”

The consulting criminal hesitated. Yes, he’d suggested the idea, but was that going overboard? He knew he could get carried away sometimes— was this one of those occasions?

“I don’t know.”

Was his dread a reliable instinct or merely an irrational fear? How did one decipher the difference? He suddenly found himself wishing that the male omega parenting group he and Jack had discussed actually existed. This was the kind of issue he’d do well to share with a sounding board of experienced persons.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

An attendant popped in again, the same woman from earlier. “Hope I’m not interrupting, gentlemen. I just wanted to make sure the two of you were comfortable. Here at _ESPA Life_ , customer satisfaction is our top priority.”

“I’m good,” said Ian. “How about you, Jim?” He was giving his friend an easy opportunity to bring up the phone concerns.

“I…I’m okay,” he declared, deciding to set his apprehension aside and trust that the babies were safe under Seb’s watchful eye. “A bit parched, though. Could I get some water?”

The employee smiled brightly. “You most certainly can. We offer an assortment of waters including artisanal, sparkling, mineral, and several vitamin-enriched varieties.”

“How about a bottle of Evian?”

“We’ve got that, too,” she confirmed. “Would you prefer regular or fruit flavored?”

“Regular is fine.”

“Very well, sir. I’ll fetch it for you right away.” At that, the woman exited Jim’s private suite.     

Ian turned to the mastermind. “So you’re not going to fret anymore?”

“Oh, I’ll fret plenty. But I’ll also attempt to be less high strung about the matter. How much trouble could possibly arise during the span of a single day?”

Moriarty really should’ve known better than to pose a question like that. Some things were best left unchallenged.

*********

Sebastian stared at his cell phone and frowned. Jim hadn’t responded to any of his messages— odd, considering how adamant he’d been in demanding hourly updates. A part of him wanted to call the spa and check up on him, but he hesitated to go that far. Perhaps his omega had simply lost track of time or changed his mind about wanting detailed reportage.

Moving on to other concerns, he noted that approximately three hours had passed with nary a peep from the twins. Based on what his spouse told him in preparation for today’s babysitting assignment, Essie and Eddie were due for a scheduled feeding and should’ve begun to stir already.

 _Maybe they’re extra tired._ Jim woke them earlier to have a chat before leaving— it might’ve thrown them off.

After giving it some thought, Moran decided to proceed as normal. He’d prep the bottles and bibs, and then go to the nursery to administer his children their lunch. Surely they’d be roused by that point.

His assumption proved false. 

When he entered the babies’ room, both infants remained asleep and were unusually difficult to wake. Granted, he’d previously observed their ability to snooze through just about anything, but this was different. It was almost as though they were stuck in a fog, their eyes glazed and demeanors subdued. He’d never seen them in such a state.

The sniper cradled his son first, pressing the warm bottle of formula to Eddie’s lips. What happened next was very disconcerting. The tiny tot weakly suckled for a few seconds and then gave up, pulling away from the rubber nipple with a whimper.

“What’s wrong, honey? Aren’t you hungry?” The boy typically had a hearty appetite, sometimes even draining the contents of a bottle. That he wouldn’t eat now was troubling.

 _Perhaps he’s sad about Jim being gone._ “Do you miss Daddy? I know it must seem strange, not having him around. But I’m here and I love you, too.”

Eddie started dozing off in his Papa’s strong arms. Seb kissed the child’s chubby little cheek and returned him to his crib.

He would try again with Essie instead. His daughter’s response wasn’t any better. Like her brother, she barely ate, and more worryingly, presented an intermittent cough.

A harrowing thought went through Moran’s head. _Are the babies sick? What should I do?_

He was rapidly spinning into panic mode when an idea hit him. After making sure the twins were settled, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

It was ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

_Come on. Pick up._

“Hello?” a groggy voice spoke. It was Severin.

“Thank god you answered. I need some advice.” Being a neonatologist, he figured his sibling could help.

“Bloody hell, Seb. Do you know how late it is where I’m at? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Yes, and I apologize. I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t important.”

The elder Moran sighed. “Well, go on. Tell me what’s so vital.”

“I’m taking care of the babies by myself for the first time, and I think they might be ill. They’re sluggish and refusing to nurse. Also, Estella appears to have a slight cough.”

“How old are they again? 1 month?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm. Sickness in infants that young can be precarious. Have they recently had contact with anyone known to be ill?”

“I honestly don’t know. We brought them to a party several days ago. No one there seemed visibly unwell, but I guess it’s possible somebody could’ve been sick and not shown symptoms.”

Severin groaned. “Sebastian, how could you do such a thing? Either of you?” the man admonished.      

“Do what?” he asked in confusion.

“Take newborn babies to a social gathering. You should never, ever place neonates in a situation of that nature. Their immune systems haven’t fully formed yet, meaning they’re exceptionally vulnerable to communicative disease.”

The assassin’s heart sank at the news. “Oh god. We had no idea, I swear.”

“Regardless of your ignorance, it sounds like you may now be dealing with the consequence.” Sev paused, quickly realizing that his tone was unnecessarily harsh. Due to his line of work, he tended to have a kneejerk reaction when it came to an infant’s welfare being put at risk. “Are they feverish?”   

“No, I don’t think so.”  

“Good, then it may just be a simple cold. That’s the best case scenario. You’ll have to remain vigilant and monitor them closely. If their temperature rises above 100 degrees F, I advise you seek medical attention.”

“What do I do in the meantime?” Seb wanted to help his cubs however he could.

“Make sure they stay hydrated. I know you said they were refusing to eat, but I suggest trying to bottle-feed them periodically throughout the day. Even if they only ingest a small amount at a time, it’s better than nothing. Furthermore, you could also give them a few ounces of Pedialyte.”

“Pedialyte? What’s that?”

“It’s like baby Gatorade. It contains electrolytes to replenish their system.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“Yes. Do you have a humidifier?”

“Not that I'm aware of.”

“Get one and run it in the nursery. It’ll improve the air quality, which will be better for their breathing.”

“Right. Makes sense.”

There was a brief pause as the sniper processed all the new information. His day had abruptly gone from 0 to 60 and showed no signs of slowing down.  

“Seb? You can handle this. I have confidence in you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the kind words. You’re a good man, Severin.”

“You too. Keep me posted on how it goes, huh?”

“Sure.”

The brothers ended their conversation and Sebastian set out to acquire the items Sev recommended. He tasked a member of the security team with retrieving the Pedialyte and humidifier. When he finally had the goods in his possession, he felt a bit less ineffectual, but still guilty as hell. He was supposed to protect his little ones, and yet he’d unwittingly jeopardized their health.

_Jim’s going to feel awful about this, too._

Moran checked his phone again, just to see if his husband had replied. Alas, there were no missed calls or texts.

_He picked a fine time to go incommunicado._

Maybe, though, it was for the best. Moriarty would almost certainly be beside himself with worry once he learned what was going on. Perhaps it was good that he’d have a day of relaxation under his belt to soften the blow.

In any event, the former colonel knew what he must do. Plugging the humidifier in and setting the Pedialyte on a nearby table, he gave each baby a gentle kiss as they slept. He then pulled a chair over to where the cribs were located and prepared to hunker down for the long haul.  

“Papa’s here,” Seb whispered, “and he’ll never leave you.”

 

 

To Be Continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will happen as Sebastian cares for his ailing children? When/how will Jim learn what’s going on? And elsewhere, what were the results of Annie and Luke’s meeting (as referenced at the end of the previous chapter)? Stay tuned for more.


	109. R, R, & R – Part 3: Rest, Relaxation, and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian is faced with a serious situation while tending to his ailing children. Elsewhere, we learn what Colin and Annie are up to. Then later, Jim returns home after having been away all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the interest of transparency, I thought I should disclose that I've made a small edit to the previous chapter. 
> 
> Upon review, I realized there was a plot hole regarding the fact that Ian had texted Jim in chapter 107, yet in 108, I wrote that he hadn't brought his phone with him at all. When I saw my error, I went back and amended the details to say that Ian had brought his phone, but locked it in the glovebox of his car, and therefore didn't have it readily available to give to Jim while they were at the spa. I'm hoping that this small change has improved the consistency of the story and I apologize for the mistake. 
> 
> **************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian Moran had been many things in his life, but today’s impromptu foray into pediatric nursing was a wholly new experience. He’d spent the past few hours keeping vigil at Essie and Eddie’s bedside, watching over the ailing infants as they slept. He attempted to bottle-feed them at various intervals, offering both formula and Pedialyte. Unfortunately, neither child would drink.

The situation was starting to grow dire. Seb barely needed to change their diapers all afternoon— a clear sign of dehydration. If things didn’t improve soon, he might have to take them to the hospital.

Estella mewled plaintively, twitching in a fitful sleep. The sniper reached down and smoothed back a lock of her dark hair. She leaned against his fingertips, finding solace in his touch.

“You’re a good girl,” he spoke. “Papa’s sorry he let you get sick.” There was a sadness to the man’s tone that couldn’t be denied.

Once his daughter settled, he returned to the chair stationed near the twins’ cribs. As they continued to snooze, he found himself tiring as well.

 _Maybe I’ll shut my eyes for a minute,_ he thought with a yawn. _No harm in that._

_Just…one…minute…_

_Just…one…_

Zzzzzzz.

*********

“Soooo,” Jim drawled, “do you feel any different after your spa experience?” He and Ian had finished up their final treatment and gotten redressed.

“Actually, yes, I think so. My back is less achy and I believe that botanical scrub did wonders for my pores. I’m still a bit tingly.”

“Oh, I knoooow. I haven’t been exfoliated so thoroughly since the time Seb surprised me with a new loofah.” He grinned, dreamily recalling the occasion.

GRRROWL.

Ian’s stomach growled loudly, causing the teen to blush. “Wow, that’s embarrassing.”

Moriarty laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing I’m not well familiar with. Pregnancy hunger is the worst.”

“It can be, yeah.” He grunted and placed a hand on his abdomen. “Tilly seems to agree.”

“We mustn’t deprive her, then. Let’s get a bite to eat before heading home. The Corinthia has an excellent restaurant on site,” he noted, referring to the hotel that hosted the spa.

“I’m sure the food is delicious, but I’m trying to be thrifty. Saving up money to buy baby items and such.”

“Ian, dear? If I’m suggesting we dine, it should go without saying that it’s my treat. Furthermore, what on earth are you pinching pennies for? Have you forgotten about the cash I arranged for Luke to send each month? That should be enough to cover your child’s expenses.”

“I’ve not forgotten,” the youth answered. “But that money’s earmarked for her college fund. I don’t want to dip into it unless absolutely necessary.”

Jim shrugged. “A fair decision, I suppose.”

GRRROWL.

Ian’s empty stomach rumbled again.

“Come on,” the mastermind persisted. “Your baby requires sustenance and so do I. If we grab dinner now, I can bring something back for Seb to nosh on. What do you say?”

“Well, when you put it like that, it’s awfully hard to refuse.”

The impish smile on Moriarty’s face stretched even wider. “Splendid. We’d be wise to make haste— the early evening rush will soon commence.”

At that, the duo set out on a mission to sate their increasingly ravenous appetites. If only Jim had known what was happening at home, he’d have skipped the proceedings and headed straight back to his family.     

*********

The front door to nursing assistant Katherine Ramsey’s house crept open as a female figure slipped inside. It was Annie.

“Hello?” she called out, removing her disguise of a hat and sunglasses. “Anybody home?”

Footsteps could be heard from above. The sound grew louder and louder until Colin finally came into view. He stood at the top of the steps wearing a floral terry cloth robe while clutching a copy of _‘Wuthering Heights.’_

Annie immediately burst into laughter. “Smashing outfit you’ve got on. That shade of mauve is very flattering.”

He glared, stomping downstairs to confront her directly. “Shut your gob. It belongs to Katie.”

“Duh, of course it does. The question is, why do you have it on?”

“It was either this or a towel, and frankly, the robe seemed like a warmer option.”

“Uh-huh. And the book?” she prodded. “You hate the Brontë sisters.”

“It’s also Katie’s. She picked it out for me to read to her in the bath.”

A look of abject horror washed over Annie. “Dear god, is this how you occupy your time when I’m not around?”

“Occasionally,” he said. “It’s not what you think. She’s the one bathing. I just keep her company and read aloud. It’s harmless.”

“Better you than me.” The thought of seeing that lazy-eyed crackpot in the nude sent a shiver down Annie’s spine.

“There’s a method to the madness. I make her happy, and she continues to let us stay. We’ve got a good thing going here and I don’t intend to fuck it up.” He paused, shooting his cohort a steely gaze. “You’d do well to remember that, too. No fucking things up.”

She rolled her eyes. The gesture did not amuse Colin.

“You _will_ take my words to heart, Annelise. We haven’t come this far only to fail now because of your incompetence.”

“Hey!” she objected. “How dare you call me incompetent? I’ve helped you day-in and day-out for months. Done your dirty work a million times over. Hell, today I even secured us extra assistance. So a little gratitude would be nice.”  

“Excuse me, what was that about ‘extra assistance?’” His voice took on an icy quality that was downright unnerving.

“I met someone potentially useful.”

“Who?” Colin stepped closer to Annie and she promptly backed up.

“A guy…I mentioned him before. He’s the one I saw following Moriarty’s protégé.”

“Ah, yes. You did speak of him. But I distinctly recall warning you not to get involved. So it appears you’ve disregarded my wishes.”

“It was for our own good,” she insisted. “I had a feeling about this person. He seemed dedicated to what he was doing. Focused and unyielding. I figured there must be a reason for his behavior. Turns out, I was right.”

Colin considered her statement carefully. He was intrigued. “Tell me more.”

“Okay. For starters, the man’s name is Luke. He’s a bartender at a pub near the university. Apparently, that’s how he met Ian. The two of them briefly dated, and after they split up, he found out Ian was hiding his pregnancy from him. He wasn’t going to tell the guy he was having his kid— can you believe it?”

“Annelise, this story had better be going somewhere.”

“It _is_ ,” she stressed. “Once he learned of his ex’s condition, he initiated contact again. By then, Ian had already met Jim in that MOPS group and told him some tale about being an abused omega. For reasons I can’t begin to fathom, Moriarty bought the spiel hook, line, and sinker. He not only moved the teen into a cushy new apartment where he hoped Luke wouldn’t be able to find him, but he also sent Sebastian after him.”

“Oh yeah?” Colin’s attention was suddenly renewed at the mention of the sniper. 

She nodded. “Yeah. He wouldn’t give me the details of their encounter, except to say that Moran had hurt him pretty bad.”

“Sounds like Seb. All he’s ever been good at is destruction.”

“Lucky for us, Luke’s seeking revenge against the happy couple and access to his unborn child,” Annie explained. “I told him we had similar interests regarding the matter of retribution. Suggested that maybe we could help each other. He seemed receptive to the idea.”

A moment of silence passed as Colin gave serious thought to the new information. Bringing someone else into the mix was a prospect not to be taken lightly.   

“Well? What do you think?”

“It has possibilities,” the man answered. “To work with me, one must be willing to set aside certain moral compunctions. Would he dare go to such lengths?”

“He said he’d do anything to get what he wants. The look in his eyes was…compelling.”

“Hmm.” Could he put faith in a stranger’s claim? No. He needed to meet him firsthand to know for sure. Being a fugitive, however, made the situation rather tricky. “I’ll agree to nothing until I’ve spoken with him one-on-one.”  

“Of course. He gave me his number. I’ll get right on it.”

“For your sake, Annelise, I hope this pans out. If we can’t trust him as assuredly as you think we can, then you know what must be done.”

The woman sighed. “Yeah. It’ll be more dirty deeds for me.”

“Hey,” he remarked, taking offense to her tone, “you knew the risks and consequences when you agreed to help with my plan.”

“I suppose I did,” she somberly conceded. “I just never imagined being made to spew so much hate and incurring an actual body count. Once the blinders are off, there’s no going back.”

Colin and Annie locked eyes, his gaze intense. “That’s exactly what needs to be impressed upon Luke.”

“Got it.” For a split second, she felt something she hadn’t in a very long time— guilt. Aligning oneself with Colin Taylor was akin to making a deal with the devil. In that sense, perhaps it was wrong to bring another person into the equation. Too late for misgivings now, though.

“I’m waiiiiiting!” a woman’s voice bellowed from above. It was Katherine, calling out for Colin.

“I’ve got to go,” he hastily muttered. “Make the necessary arrangements.” On that note, he retreated upstairs to placate his quasi-companion.

Once her brother-in-law was gone, Annie pulled out her phone. She began dialing Luke’s number, but stopped midway through. Instead, she opened a folder file and accessed one item in particular— a photo featuring a younger version of herself alongside a beautiful blonde woman.

“Miss you, Margo,” she whispered. “This is all for you.”

*********

WAAAAH. WAAAAAH. WAAAAAAH.

Sebastian awoke to the sound of uncontrollable wailing. He blinked rapidly and wiped the sleep from his eyes. _Must’ve nodded off._      

WAAAAAAAAAH.

The assassin stood at alert. His children needed him.

“Papa’s here,” he assured them.

It appeared Eddie was doing most of the crying. Seb bent down to pick him up and was instantly taken aback by how warm the boy felt. Not missing a beat, he retrieved the ear thermometer Jim had insisted they buy. Within seconds, the device showed a reading of 102°F.

“Oh no.”

He cradled his son in an effort to console him. The infant trembled, his tiny body overcome with chills. It broke Moran’s heart.

“Everything will be okay, honey. Papa’s going to get you help. We’ll take a ride to the hosp—”

Sebastian abruptly fell silent, his words withering on the vine when he saw the state of his daughter. Estella lay in her crib, panting and wheezing, her sweet face contorted into a grimace as she struggled to breathe. He was almost afraid to take her temperature. As expected, it was just as high as her brother’s.

“My poor babies.” The distraught alpha held his darlings close, desperately longing to soothe them somehow. They didn’t deserve this— not in any way, shape, or form.

Seb knew he couldn’t afford to waste time. His children were very sick and required immediate medical attention. He grabbed the keys to his Mercedes and threw on a double-sling, wearable baby carrier so that he could transport them at once. The security team cleared out of his way as he charged a path to the car.

“You’re so brave,” he said, strapping the twins into their safety seats. “Papa’s fierce little soldiers.”

After checking to make sure they were properly secured, Moran noticed something balled up on the floor. It was a hoodie sweatshirt Jim had worn the day before, but discarded when he got too hot. It still smelled of his cologne.

The former colonel had an idea. He draped the garment over his babies’ laps like a blanket, knowing they would derive a sense of comfort from their Daddy’s scent. 

Speaking of Moriarty, Seb glimpsed his phone one last time to see if he’d gotten any response. Alas, there was nothing.

 _Why won’t you answer me, Magpie?_ A part of him feared the worst, but he couldn’t dwell on the matter right now. He had to concentrate on his cubs.

_I’ll call the spa when I get to the hospital._

Until then, he’d simply drive.

*********

It was around 6 p.m. when Jim arrived at home. He walked through the front door with a spring in his step and a bag of takeout in hand. 

“Sebbbbby! I’m back.”

He was greeted to silence.

“Seb? Where are you?” The consulting criminal set the food container down and went in search of his husband. Specifically, he headed to the nursery, figuring the man was probably there with their children.

“Darrrrrling!” he yelled through the hall, “I brought you dinner. I think you’re going to enjo—”

Moriarty was rendered speechless at the sight of an empty room. His heart sank. Where were Essie and Eddie? Where was Sebastian?

 _Don’t panic. This is a big house._ _There are other places they might be._   

And so he looked far and wide, scouring every inch of the mansion for his missing family. Eventually, he had to acknowledge the truth that they were gone.

_No babies. No Tiger. Just…nobody._

What happened? He decided to quiz the guard posted at the entrance of their home. Surely, someone paid to keep watch would have the answers he needed.

No such luck. A sizeable bloke named Dominic described the manner in which Seb had fled with the twins, but regrettably, had no clue where Moran was taking them. Neither did anyone else on duty.

Jim was a hairsbreadth away from having a meltdown. They say you shouldn’t shoot the messenger, but he badly wanted to snuff out the entire group of mercenaries in his employ. He was paying an exorbitant fee for their services, and yet they couldn’t even be bothered to ascertain his spouse’s whereabouts. It was disgraceful.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply in an attempt to calm himself. It didn’t work. The mastermind told off the guard using some very expressive language and then stormed back inside.

There was only one thing left to do: use the landline phone they maintained for emergency purposes. If ever a situation qualified, this was it.

Moriarty dialed Seb’s mobile and waited. And waited. And waited.

“Hello?”

“Oh thank god,” he uttered in relief, grateful to hear his mate’s voice. “Sebby, where are you? I got home and the house was deserted.”

“I’m at St. Thomas’ Hospital. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for hours, Jim. I even called the spa, but they said that you’d left.”

“My phone died,” the Irishman explained. “Why are you at the hospital? What the hell is going on?”

“The babies are sick.”

In a flash, Jim felt as though the ground had dropped out from under him. He was dizzy and his heart began to race. “Sick? How so?”

“The doctors say it’s influenza. It’s really hit them hard, Magpie.”

“No…no, that’s not possible.” His precious little loves couldn’t be ill— they just couldn’t.

“I wish it wasn’t true, but it is. You’ve got to come here. They need both their parents.”

“Absolutely. I’d have been there already if I’d known.”

“All right. I’ll meet you in the lobby and bring you up to speed on everything.”

“See you soon, Tiger.”

“Aye.”

Though still in a daze, Jim summoned the strength to carry on. He was fueled by a singular, all-powerful instinct to protect his children. Nothing would stop him now.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, the security detail didn't follow Seb to the hospital because he left in such a hurry, giving them no prior notice. At the end of the chapter, they don't track Jim either for similar reasons.


	110. Recovery & Recrimination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian are on edge as their children face a serious health crisis. They must rise to the occasion and be there for their precious little ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Where are they, Seb? I must see them.” Jim had just arrived at St. Thomas’ hospital and was in a frantic rush to get to his ailing angels.

“Follow me.”

The sniper took his mate by the hand, leading him to the Urgent Care unit where Essie and Eddie convalesced. At the same time, he relayed the events that had transpired throughout the day. Disclosing some of the details proved emotionally draining.

“Jimmy, it’s important you understand what we’re dealing with. Estella’s a bit worse off than her brother. In addition to the flu, she’s also suffering from the early stages of pneumonia. It’s going to be okay, though. They’ve administered antibiotics and are optimistic the treatment will work.”

Moriarty was absolutely gutted by the reality of his children’s affliction. It seemed that the universe had accomplished what no person ever could— discovered a way to burn the heart out of him.

When they entered the twins’ room, the mastermind audibly gasped as he saw his poppets hooked up to IVs. They looked so small and fragile; so in need of protection. His parental instincts immediately kicked into high gear.

“Never fear, my lovelies. Daddy’s here.” He reached down, scooping both babies into his arms. They were clammy and hot to the touch. “Tiger, they’re blazing!” he announced with alarm. “Why hasn’t something been done about their fevers?”

“They’ve already received cool sponge baths and Tylenol. Medically speaking, there’s not much more one can do. We have to let this aspect of the illness run its course. Eventually, their fevers will break.” 

“That’s completely unacceptable! I demand to consult the attending physician.”

“Kitten, please calm—”

“Bring me their doctor NOW!”

The babies began to squirm, agitated by the Irishman’s yelling.

“Okay, fine. But at least put our little ones back down. They need to rest.”

“No! I’m gone for a single day and this is what happens!” he fumed. “I’ll never leave them again.”

“Jim, you can’t be attached to the twins 24/7. It’s just not feasible.”

“I can try!” The look in Moriarty’s eyes was truly harrowing, equal parts sad, mad, and afraid.

Seb recognized his partner’s expression all too well. If he didn’t subdue him soon, a meltdown was imminent.

“Magpie,” he began, gently placing a hand on his husband’s shoulder, “stop for a minute and take a deep breath. Regroup.”

“Regroup?” the genius repeated incredulously. “Bollocks that! I’ve got to ensure our children’s welfare.”   

“Then you may want to start by setting them down, because your shouting is scaring the hell out of them.”

“What? I’d never…” he hesitated, gazing at the infants in his embrace. They were anxiously curling into themselves and appeared to be on the verge of crying. Their IV tubes were pulled taut as well, no doubt adding to their distress. “Oh god. You’re right.” His voice faltered at the realization. “Forgive me, darlings. Daddy isn’t angry with you.”  

“Let’s put the kiddos back to bed, huh?”  

Jim nodded brokenly, allowing his spouse to take one of the babies while he handled the other. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten them.”

“I know, love.”

At that moment, a nurse strolled into the room without bothering to knock. She came bearing a portable oxygen tank. 

“What’s that for?” the consulting criminal inquired. He recognized the equipment, but wanted to know why it was being brought in now.  

“I’m not at liberty to discuss patient information with those outside of the immediate family, sir.”

“He _is_ family,” Sebastian swiftly declared.

“Oh?” The woman arched a brow and began prepping some kind of tube.

“Yes,” Moriarty affirmed, speaking for himself. “I’m the twins’ mother.”

She ogled him disdainfully. “Yeah, right. You don’t exactly look the part.”

Both men were incensed at her remark, Jim especially so.

“Listen up, you bloody cow. I’m a male omega and these are _my_ children. You’ll damn well tell me what it is you’re doing to them.”

The medical worker scowled. “I’ve been instructed to place the girl on oxygen. It’s a temporary measure to help her breathe until her lungs are at full strength.”

“See? Wasn’t it easier to just tell me the truth rather than cop an attitude?”

“I have to follow procedure.”

“Does ‘procedure’ entail acting like a bitch?”

She balked at the blunt assessment. “With all due respect, sir, it would suit you to behave in a less confrontational manner.”

Jim chuckled darkly. “Honey, it’s adoooorable that you think this is me being confrontational. You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

The nurse said nothing, but flashed an icy glare. She then proceeded to shove a length of plastic tubing up Essie’s nose. The tiny tot wailed and the woman exited in a huff.

“How dare you?! Say goodbye to your job,” the genius screamed, utterly irate. He stuck his head out the door as she continued to walk away. “I’ll have you fired!”

Meanwhile, Seb adjusted the tube that would provide his daughter with extra oxygen. He whispered soothing reassurances and stared deep into the pools of her brilliant green eyes.

Still shrieking down the hall, Moriarty attracted the attention of the on-call physician.

“Excuse me, sir, is there a problem?”

“Yes, quite a big one, in fact. The ornery bitch who just left here ought to be sacked. She insulted me and mishandled my child.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that. As the attending doctor, I’ll look into the matter and assign you a different nurse.”

“You’re the one who’s treating Essie and Eddie?”

“I am.”

“Come.” He grasped the man by the arm, tugging him inside the room.

Seb turned to greet the practitioner. “Hello again, Dr. Adams. This is my mate, Jim.”

“It’s good that the two of you are here. I’ve often found it beneficial to have both parents present.”

“Well, I’ve got some questions for you, doc.” The mastermind wasn’t beating around the bush— he wanted answers.

“Go ahead.”

“To start, they’re burning up. Why aren’t you doing more to lower their temperatures?”

“Kitten, I already told you they’ve done what they can,” Moran reminded.

“Surely they’ve not exhausted all options.”

“Your partner is correct,” the physician spoke. “He was here when we administered the infants a fever reducing medication, and even assisted in giving them a cooling sponge bath. Those are the primary methods of bringing down a high temperature in babies so young.”

Jim tilted his head, peering curiously at the sniper. “You helped with their bath?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Hmm.” Somehow, he felt a bit sad that Seb had gotten to help instead of him. He was their mother, after all— he should’ve been there to do it.  

“Their fevers have dropped almost a full degree since they were admitted. The treatment is working slowly but steadily.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Have you given them anything to cut down on the duration of their illness?”

“Yes, they were dispensed a low-dose antiviral drug shortly after diagnosis. Your husband consented to it.” The practitioner paused, a thought occurring to him. “Gentlemen, it may be prudent for you to take the medication as well.”

“Why?” Moriarty asked. “We’re not sick.”

“Sebastian explained to me how you attended a party as a family. That’s likely where your children were exposed to the virus, and thus, you probably came in contact with it too. It’s possible you’re infected and just not showing symptoms yet.”

Dr. Adams’s assertion weighed heavily on Jim. “They’re ill because I brought them to a party?”

“I can’t confirm it with absolute certainty, but social gatherings are often a hub for germ circulation.”

The Irishman went dead silent. He was reeling on the inside, his mind awash in a sea of self-recrimination. _How could I be so fucking stupid? Why didn’t I stop to consider the potential danger? What kind of parent would be so negligent?_

“I got a flu shot earlier this year,” Seb noted, “so I doubt I’m at risk. I’m sure Jim must’ve done the same.”

Moriarty let out a weary sigh. “Actually, no, I didn’t.”

The doctor was unsurprised. “I gathered that from your children’s condition. If you’d received a vaccination during pregnancy, your children would’ve had an immunity.”  

Jim’s guilt officially reached a new crescendo. _Why didn’t I get the bloody shot? WHY?_ His obstetrician had suggested it at one of his regular checkups. But that day, he was tired and cranky and just wanted to go home. Wanted to kick off his shoes, sprawl out on the couch, and eat double fudge ice cream straight from the container. As always, he’d thought only of himself.

Seb and Dr. Adams continued to talk, but the genius didn’t hear a blessed thing. Their voices blurred, becoming background noise while his tortured musings took the forefront. He could swear that the walls were beginning to close in and the lights were growing dimmer and dimmer by the second.

“Are you okay, sir?”

“Jimmy?”

All eyes were suddenly on him. “Huh? I’m fine,” he lied.

“I realize this is a lot to process. I’ll leave you alone so you can decide what you want to do.” At that, the man walked out of the room. 

“Tiger, what was he going on about? I lost focus midway through.”

“He wants to know if you’d like to take a dose of antiviral medication to ward off potential infection.”

“I caught that part. Was there anything else?”

“He also asked if we want to camp out here overnight while they monitor the babies.”

“That’s a no-brainer. I go where they go. We’re a package deal.”

Sebastian clasped his mate’s hand, entwining their fingers. “Likewise, my dear.”

The couple exchanged a knowing look. They were a family, bound together forevermore.

*********

Spending the night at their children’s sickbed proved to be among the hardest things Jim and Seb ever had to do. Forget stakeouts that left them holed up in darkness for days, or assignments that ended in a hail of gunfire— somehow this felt worse. Seeing Essie and Eddie writhe through chills and body aches was heartbreaking to endure.

The duo found ways to pass the long, sad hours. Jim made phone calls warning Jack and Ian of the possible influenza exposure. The latter had thankfully gotten a flu vaccine, but the situation with Jack was more troubling. It seemed that his son Reggie was exhibiting signs of illness. The mastermind made him promise to take the boy to a pediatrician, lest the ailment progress.

Meanwhile, Seb ventured to a familiar locale— the hospital gift shop. He’d visited the place so many times this past year, he knew the layout by heart. There was, however, a new display arranged for the Easter season. It was a bit cutesy and cloying, yet also strangely endearing.

He made a point of buying presents for everyone. Moriarty got a festive basket filled to the brim with candy, the babies received miniature bunny rabbit plushies, and as for himself, he decided to try something different in the form of a sketchpad and pencils. He hadn’t drawn in years, but thought it would be a good way to pass the time.

“Jelly bean?” Jim offered. He sat in a chair next to Moran, noshing on the colorful, sugary confections.

“No thanks, hon. If I stop for even a minute, our little ones might change position and it will throw off my work.”

“Ah, sure. I understand.” He stared at the twins and smiled softly. This was the soundest they’d slept all night. Despite being hooked up to IVs and tubing, they looked very sweet snuggling the stuffed bunnies their Papa had brought them.

The assassin couldn’t help but notice when his husband yawned tiredly. “You should try to get some rest, kitten. They did provide us with a foldout bed.”

“I want to keep an eye on our doves.”

“I know. But you aren’t doing this alone. I’m here, so you can take a break without having to worry.”

He paused, considering the idea. It certainly was enticing. “Maybe just a teeeeensy nap. An hour at most. No, make that two.” 

“Go on. I won’t abandon my post.” Seb’s protective alpha instincts came in handy during times like these.

Jim gave him a peck on the cheek before moving to the bed. It wasn’t especially comfortable, but would do in a pinch. Exhausted, he fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow…

 

 

_It was a beautiful spring day at the park and the Moriarty-Moran clan was indulging in a lovely picnic beneath the shade of an oak tree. A delectable array of gourmet goods were on the menu, comprising a four-course meal. Even the babies— who did not yet eat solid food— were treated to a sampling of organic, strawberry-flavored formula._

_He turned to observe his family in action. Essie and Eddie were giggling up a storm as Seb played peekaboo with them. They were so happy and healthy; so vivacious in their approach to life. It was inspiring._

_Out of the blue, a vibrant butterfly flew past, captivating the twins’ attention. They followed the creature’s movements with their eyes and beamed delightedly when it came to perch upon young Edward’s arm._

_Jim knew he needed to get a picture of this moment. He rooted through a travel bag, searching for his camera._

_Searching, searching, searching._

_Ah-ha! Finally, he found it. Now he just had to make sure everything was still in place to snap the perfect shot. He looked up and—_

_Nothing._

_Suddenly, nothing was there. No park, no picnic, no butterfly, babies, or Seb. Only a black void surrounded him._

_“What’s going on?” he muttered frantically. “Where’s my family?” The consulting criminal wandered in a panic, finding darkness at every turn. “Sebby!” he called out. “Where are you?”_

_From the shadows, a disembodied voice spoke. “Why should you care?”_

_Moriarty whipped his head around in pursuit of whoever was talking to him. Again, he was met with a desolate abyss._

_“Who’s speaking to me?” he demanded. “Where’s my husband? Where are our children?”_

_“Stop pretending you give a damn,” the voice sharply spat._

_“I’m not pretending! I love them.”_

_“No, you don’t. You’re incapable of the emotion. No one ever gets to you, remember?”_

_Jim was really fed up now. “Sod off! How dare you question what I feel for my family? I don’t have to justify myself to an invisible man.”_

_Another voice chimed in. It, too, was independent of a physical form. “If you truly loved them, you wouldn’t have done the things you did.”_

_“You let Sebastian think you were dead for two years,” a third unseen person pointed out. “Doesn’t sound very loving to me.”_

_“And you put your babies in harm’s way over and over again,” a fourth faceless entity accused. “Even before they were born, your body was trying to hurt them.”_

_Soon more voices joined the chorus. A litany of transgressions were hurled at the mastermind with no time in between to refute them._

_“Think of all the lives you’ve ruined. The death and destruction you so relished.”_

_“You’re a monster. Monsters aren’t fit to have families.”_

_“Your children will learn who you really are, and they won’t love you anymore.”_

_“A bastard like you doesn’t deserve them in the first place. They’re good and pure, and you’re human garbage. Something vile to scrape off the bottom of one’s shoe.”_

_Jim could take no more. The barrage of attacks were too much. “SHUT UP!” he screamed. “You’re a bunch of bloody cowards! At least have the decency to show yourselves to me!”_

_And so they did. A procession of familiar faces stepped out from the shadows. All the Holmes siblings were there— Sherlock, Mycroft, and Eurus, respectively. John, Irene, and Molly were present too._

_Moriarty was flabbergasted at the reveal, but put on a brave exterior. He wouldn’t let them see him crack._

_“WHERE. IS. MY. FAMILY?”_

_“Why don’t you turn around and see?” Sherlock suggested._

_“Because there’s nothing behind me, you doofus!”_

_“I disagree.”_

_He scowled intensely and spun around to prove that there was only darkness. Except when he turned, the location had changed. There *was* something surrounding him now— a graveyard._

_The Irishman didn’t want to read the names on the tombstones, but they were right in front of him, plain as day._

_‘Sebastian Augustus Moran-Moriarty’_

_‘Edward James Moriarty’_

_‘Estella Sebastienne Moriarty’_

_This was a family plot and all of them were dead._

_Horrified, he let out a bloodcurdling shriek._

 

 

Witnessing his spouse in distress, Sebastian threw down the pad and pencil in his hands and flew to Jim’s side.

“I’m here, Magpie. Whatever’s the matter, you’re safe with me.”

His eyes fluttered open, focusing on Seb. He clutched the sniper tight, as if his life depended on it.

Moran hugged him back just as fiercely. “It’s okay, darling. I’ve got you.”

The genius paused, trying to hold back tears. “Oh, Sebby. I had such an awful dream. Everyone was saying terrible things, and then…”

“Then what, sweetheart?”

“They showed me your graves— yours and the babies.’ You were gone forever.” His voice wavered as he said the words aloud. The mere thought of it made him shudder.

“Hush now. We’re very much alive and not going anywhere.”

WAAAAAH. WAAAAAAAH.

“Listen to that, Jimmy. Our cubs are calling.”

For a few seconds, Moriarty was relieved. Quickly, though, his expression dropped like a rock. “I woke them up. They were sleeping and I spoilt it.”

“No, don’t blame yourself. They probably would’ve stirred soon anyway,” Seb reassured. “Let’s comfort them together, okay?”     

“That’s a good idea. Our little ones need us.”  

They did, indeed. And London’s most dangerous men needed them as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	111. The Alpha Artiste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian flexes his artistic talents when Jim poses for a portrait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“There you go, sweetie. Now you’re snug as a bug in a rug.” Jim had finished swaddling his son and was putting him down for a nap. He looked over to the other crib where Estella lay, and saw that she’d already dozed off. “My goodness, such sleepy babies.”

“They’ve been through a lot lately,” Sebastian remarked. “It’s got to be exhausting.”

“Oh, I know. I’m so glad to have them home.” After a week-long stay at St. Thomas’s, the infants were finally deemed well enough to leave the hospital.

“Me too.”

Moriarty proceeded to dim the lights in the nursery and put on a recording of soothing ocean sounds.

“Mood lighting and crashing waves, aye?”

“Yes, it’s meant to make the naptime experience more enjoyable.” 

Seb wanted to roll his eyes, but didn’t dare. Ever since the twins’ illness, Jim had taken doting to a new level. He was very serious about pampering their darlings and would not abide jokes on the matter.

“They seem settled, kitten. Perhaps it’s time we go?” The duo had a ‘date’ to attend to, involving a sketchpad, pencil, and king-size bed.

“I guess so,” he answered, not quite meeting Moran’s gaze. His demeanor was noticeably less confident than usual.

“Something troubling you?”

“Not reeeeally, it’s just…”

“Just what, my dear?” Sebastian smiled and stroked the smaller man’s hand in an attempt to ease his tension.

“Are you positive you want me to pose au naturel?”

“I do,” he affirmed. “Having second thoughts?”

“No…maybe…sort of.”

“If you’re not comfortable, we don’t have to go through with it. This is your call, love.”

The genius paused and glanced up. “Let’s do it. Give me a moment to slip into something more comfortable and I’ll meet you in our room.”

“I’ll be waiting.” In all their years together, he’d never drawn Jim in the nude. There was a first time for everything.

 

  

Sebastian was ready. He reclined in a cushiony chair with his art supplies nearby. The only thing missing was his model.

It hadn’t taken too much effort to convince Moriarty to pose for him. After seeing the sketches he’d done of the babies, the mastermind permitted him to draw his likeness, too. One thing led to another, and by the end of their session, Seb cheekily suggested that next time he ought to lose the clothes. Jim agreed.     

At last, the door creaked open. London’s most dashing criminal extraordinaire walked in, sporting a black silk robe and nothing else.

Moran couldn’t disguise his enthusiasm. He followed his mate’s movements with rapt anticipation. This was something to be savored.

Jim took a seat at the end of the bed, positioned parallel to Seb. He crossed his legs in an almost shielding manner and clutched the opening of his robe, making sure it was shut tight.

 _Hrm._ This was not what the sniper was expecting.

“Honey? Forgive me for repeating myself, but I’ve got to ask again— are you certain you want to do this? Because I’m getting the distinct impression you’d rather not.”

“I’d like to, honestly,” he said. There was a hint of nervousness in his tone that signified something was weighing on him.

“So what’s the problem? I’ve seen you naked a million times. Hell, we once did a stakeout at a nude resort. You played volleyball in the buff.”

“What’s your point?”

“Well, I wonder what’s changed between then and now. Why the sudden surge of modesty?”

“In those days, I hadn’t recently given birth.”

The blonde furrowed a brow, confused. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You truly haven’t figured it out?”

“Nope. Toss me a few more clues and maybe I’ll be able to piece it together.”

Jim glared. “Stop playing dumb. I’m in no mood to be patronized.”

“I’m not playing, I swear. I just want to understand what’s got my omega in a tizzy.”

“For fuck’s sake, Seb. Are you really this daft?”

“Apparently.” Times like these, he wished his mate would simply say what was on his mind rather than dance around the subject.    

“Fine, I’ll be blunt.”

“Please do.”

“You haven’t seen my body since I had the twins.”

He tilted his head, peering curiously at Moriarty. “Of course I have.”

“Not properly. Just half-clothed glimpses in the dark. Think about it.”

Moran did as instructed, recalling the physical side of his and Jim’s relationship since their children were born. The mastermind was advised to avoid sex for six weeks following the emergency C-section he’d undergone. But even so, they’d fooled around plenty of times after putting Essie and Eddie to bed for the night.

 _Night._ Yes, their intimate activities had taken place during evening hours. Jim often slept when the babies did, and Seb joined him on several occasions. It was then that they’d— 

 _He’s right._ The assassin was astonished at the realization. He had not, in fact, viewed his husband fully naked since the whirlwind that was Valentine’s Day. 

“You remember now, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”

“Yes, darling, I do. However, I’m still unclear as to why you’re upset. You’ve experienced the miracle of life— why is that a bad thing?”

“Because I don’t look the same!” he spat in frustration. “You act like this is no big deal, but it is to me. I’ve got a scar from the incision and my stomach’s not flat anymore. I thought that by agreeing to model for you, I’d get over my hang up, but it hasn’t worked. If anything, I feel worse. Sitting here, having to explain all this…it’s humiliating.”

Sebastian frowned. “Magpie, no. Don’t put yourself down. You are, and always will be, an amazing man. So what if you have a scar? I’ve got my fair share, too. And besides, consider how you acquired it— that mark is a testament to our children. If you didn’t have it, they wouldn’t be here.”

Jim was silent for a moment, contemplating his partner’s words. It was a perspective he hadn’t taken into account. “That’s an interesting way to look at it,” he admitted. “I suppose it’s true, in a manner of speaking.”

“Absolutely,” the former colonel affirmed. “Scars can be badges of honor. Yours most certainly qualifies.”

“Perhaps, but what about my 'pooch?' I hate it. Maybe I should get a tummy tuck.”

“Kitten, you needn’t resort to such drastic measures. I’d love your body at any size or shape. And you know why? Because it’s _you_. No matter what the window dressing looks like, inside you’d be the same.”

The Irishman gazed hopefully at him. “Oh Sebby, do you mean it? If you’re merely trying to placate me—”

“I promise I’m not. I’m with you for the long haul— together forever, ‘til death do us part. Nothing could deter me.”

“Don’t say ‘death,’ Tiger. Just don’t.” He was still raw from the terrible nightmare he’d suffered a week earlier. The sight of his family’s graves remained fresh in his mind, terrorizing him in a private kind of hell.

“I’m not too keen on the term either. Perhaps we ought to institute a moratorium on it. We won’t speak of demise in regards to each other ever again.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The couple exchanged a smile, both men feeling a bit more relaxed than when they began.

Jim stood up and shot his handsome hubby a come-hither gleam. “Got your pencil ready?”

Without delay, Sebastian grabbed his art supplies. Their session was about to commence and he couldn’t wait.

Moriarty took a pensive approach to disrobing, sliding off his silken covering the way a snake might slither from its skin. But no creature could look as good as he did in that moment.

“How do you want me?”

Seb swallowed. How _didn’t_ he want him was a more apt question.

“Well? I’m patiently awaiting your expert instruction.”

 _Expert instruction?_ So that was how his Magpie wanted to play it. _Okay._ He could be an alpha artiste if Jim so desired.  

“Get back on the bed,” he commanded, and Moriarty did. “Stretch out, facing me. Prop your head up with a pillow.”

“Like this?” the genius asked, positioning himself as directed.

“Yeah. Now move your arm over a little, and bend your leg slightly.” Seb would make damn sure that this portrait was both tasteful and erotic, revealing a fair amount without showing too much. “Perfect.”

The sniper paused to admire the sight of his gorgeous omega, sprawled out just for him. He couldn’t believe Jim was worried about the condition of his post-birth body— the changes to his physique were minimal at most. Yes, there was a scar on his abdomen, but it was relatively minor and would fade over time. As for the ‘pooch’ he complained of, well, he hadn’t exactly had rock-hard abs to start with. The way his stomach looked now wasn’t radically different from how it appeared before. In short, the man was seeing flaws where there were none.

Moran soon got to work sketching the likeness of his magnificent mate. He studied him intently, capturing every crease and contour; every freckle that littered the porcelain palette of his skin. It was an honor to pay tribute to the glory known as Jim.

“You’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.”

Though Moriarty kept a cool exterior, Seb didn’t miss the way he’d batted his eyes at the compliment.

“You make an excellent model.”

“Riiiiight, because it’s so difficult to lay in place on a comfortable bed.”

“There’s more to it than that. Posing requires confidence and grace— a certain je ne sais quoi.”

“Tiger? I love you dearly, but I’m smart enough to know a line when I hear one.”

“Me, feed you a line?” he replied in mock indignation. “Why, I never!” Seb flashed his irrepressible sharky grin and Jim smiled back.

“You’re a cheeky bugger today.”

“What can I say? Drawing you nude does wonders for my disposition.”

“Soooo, then…I take it everything is up to par, in your opinion?” His tone was playful yet nervous as he attempted to gage Moran’s reaction to his physical form. 

“I said you were beautiful and I meant it. You’re a god among men, Magpie. My dashing dark king.”

“Does that make you my queen?”

Sebastian chuckled. “I prefer to think of myself as your knight in shining armor.”

“Ooh, yes. I do like the sound of that,” the mastermind dreamily declared. “It’s a rather fitting title. We’ve had our share of adventures. Conquered lands and slayed some proverbial dragons. Made off with untold riches along the way.”

“Not to mention the numerous times I’ve saved your arse.”

“Sebby, darling? One of your primary duties has always been to act as my bodyguard. If you hadn’t served me well in that capacity, I’d have sacked you early on.”

“Sack a handsome bloke like me? Never.”

“Cocky Tiger,” he tutted. “But perhaps you’re right. I’d have probably just kept you chained to my bed.”

The assassin smirked. “I think you did that a few times regardless.”

“Honey, you know it.”

“I sure do.”

The couple’s banter wound down as Sebastian focused on his drawing. It was a black and white sketch, but he wondered if next time he should try using color. He might even branch out and employ pastels instead of regular pencils. The possibilities were endless.

Eventually, it was done. Butterflies fluttered in Jim’s stomach as he awaited the finished product. He hoped the portrait would be flattering.

“Care to take a peek, kitten?”

“I doooo.” Rising from the bed, Moriarty approached the larger man, who had his sketchpad open. He was gobsmacked when he saw the piece.

“What do you think? Is it any good?”

“Good? Darling, this is stunning. It’s remarkable you’re able to produce such high caliber work after so many years on hiatus.”

Seb shrugged. “Once you get going, it doesn’t take long for the technique to come back.”

“Still, it’s impressive. I may insist we do this again.”

“Oh, we will,” he asserted. “You can count on that.”

The consulting criminal’s face alit with devilish delight. “So confident, my sweet. I like it.”

Moran grunted huskily at his husband’s comment and set the drawing aside. It had taken great restraint to remain professional while Jim laid naked before him. Now that they’d concluded their session, he could allow his baser urges to run free.    

“I want you closer,” Seb proclaimed, gripping the genius by the arm and pulling him firmly against his chest. There was no space between them; no bridge left to cross. The duo’s warm bodies pressed together as if fusing into one.

Moriarty’s breathing hitched and goosebumps rose on his skin. He was putty in the sniper-turned-artist’s hands, electrified by his alpha’s touch. No other person on this earth held such sway over him. No one else ever could.   

Their mouths soon met in a fevered display of love, lust, and unbridled need. Jim ran his fingers through Sebastian’s strawberry blonde hair, relishing how wonderful he felt in the man’s passionate embrace. It was heaven, or something close to it.

“Why are you still wearing clothes?” he panted, briefly breaking their kiss.

The strapping assassin tugged off his t-shirt and jeans, leaving him in only a pair of grey boxer briefs. “Better?”

Jim eyed him hungrily. “Almost.” Without warning, he tore the undergarments from Seb’s awesome, godlike body.

“Fuck.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

London’s most dangerous— and amorous— men stumbled to the bed amid a haze of wandering hands, lips, and heated declarations of love. Who knew that art could be such a potent aphrodisiac?           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally going to include Colin and Luke's first meeting. However, I got on a roll writing about Jim and Seb's art session and decided to dedicate the chapter entirely to that. 
> 
> Rest assured, the next installment will feature the antagonists meet-up. Also, Jim will receive some unexpected, but happy, news. Stay tuned.


	112. Devils Whispering in the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim receives a surprising phone call. Meanwhile, Colin is up to no good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Sebby!” Jim called out excitedly. “Sebbbby, come quick!”

The consulting criminal was in the babies’ playroom, sitting on the floor with them while they were secured in infant support seats.  

Sebastian rushed in, fearing the worst. “What’s the matter?” He looked his family over and saw that everyone appeared to be intact. It was a relief, but now he doubly wondered why Jim had summoned him with such urgency.    

“Eddie just spoke!” The Irishman’s expression was incredibly animated as he relayed the news.

“Really?” Moran was delighted at first, but then stopped to consider the probability of his partner’s claim. “Wait, kitten…they’re not even two months old. There’s no way they could be talking yet.”

“I’m telling you, I heard it for myself a moment ago. I was pulling out the cow puppet, and when he saw it, he said ‘moo!’

“Hmm.” Seb wasn’t convinced.

“It happened, truly it did!” he insisted. “Our son recognized ‘Monsieur Moo.’”

“See if you can get him to do it again.”

“Fine, and when he does, I expect a formal apology for having doubted me.”

Jim brought the black and white spotted sockpuppet back out, placing it on his hand and waving it in front of the child.

Eddie’s face instantly lit up at the sight of the toy, his brilliant blue eyes widening and his tiny mouth stretching to form a toothless grin. 

“He’s so happy,” Seb marveled. The little boy’s joy was utterly heartwarming.

“Of course he is,” Moriarty replied, now speaking in an affected French accent as he assumed the ‘Monsieur Moo’ persona. “Our chéries are like sunshine— always cheerful and bright.” He leaned in close to the twins, making the puppet ‘kiss’ their cheeks and tickle their tummies.

Both babies giggled wildly and began babbling a series of cute, contented sounds.

“Do you hear it?” the mastermind quizzed Moran.

Seb cocked his head, continuing to listen carefully. “Honey, I don’t think they’re actually talking. They’re just producing normal cooing noises that occasionally share tonal qualities with real words.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m offering proof of our children’s superior intellect, and you dare suggest it’s _ordinary_ cooing?”

“Jimmy, I’m sure our darlings are clever beyond measure. With your genes in the mix, how could they not be?” he acknowledged. “But try to be reasonable. Isn’t it more likely that they’re making sweet, blissful baby sounds rather than attempting language at 7 weeks?”

The genius contemplated his mate’s pragmatic perspective. Seb had a point, though he was loath to admit it. Instead, he simply glared at him.  

RING. RING. RING.

Moriarty’s phone rang. He removed the sockpuppet from his hand and out his mobile device.

“Hello?”  *pause*  “Oh, wow.”  *pause*  “Certainly, I’d be glad to swing by.”  *pause*  “See you soon.” At that, he ended the call.

“Who was that?” Sebastian asked.

“Jack. He had his baby and wants me to come visit him at the hospital. I’ll need you to watch Essie and Eddie while I’m gone.”

“Sure, that’s no problem. Which hospital will you be at?”

Jim hesitated to divulge the information, realizing it might ruffle some feathers. But as his spouse awaited a response, he knew he had to come clean. “St. Bart’s.”

Now it was Seb’s turn to glare. He abso-fucking-lutely despised the place. That his children had been born there only slightly lessened his hatred.

“It’s a good hospital. Despite your feelings toward it, they have an excellent medical staff. That’s probably why Jack went there.”

“I know their reputation. Doesn’t mean I have to like it any better.”

Moriarty stood up, in no mood to argue. “Let’s get the babies back to the nursery before I go.”

“Okay.” The sniper stopped for a second, wanting to make sure of something. “Magpie?”

“Yeah?”

“Allow our security detail to follow you there, all right? You’ll be heading out alone and I worry about you.”

“Seb…”

“Please.”

Jim sighed. He was resistant to the idea, but aware of how much it meant to his partner. “Fine. I’ll agree to be trailed, provided they stay a tolerable distance away. I won’t have bodyguards breathing down my neck at every turn.”   

Moran nodded. “That’s fair. Thank you, love.”

“Well, let’s just get going before I change my mind,” he quipped. “I’ll take Essie and you can grab Eddie. I enjoy seeing my favorite boys together.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, there’s a certain novelty to it. It’s like viewing a side-by-side comparison of ‘Seb classic’ versus a new, reformulated version.”

The blonde chuckled. “Glad you didn’t say ‘new and improved.’”

“Honey, there’s no way to improve upon the original. He’s perfect as is.”

“You flatter me.”

“I merely state an indisputable fact.”

Time being of the essence, the duo cut short their banter and brought the twins to the nursery. They were a tad fussy at first, but calmed once Jim put on the ‘ocean sounds’ album they so adored.

“I’m amazed that actually works,” remarked Moran.

“The waves mimic what they would’ve heard in utero. That’s why it has such a soothing effect.”

“Ah, makes sense.”

As he readied to leave, Moriarty took a final glimpse at his family. They really were a dream come true. Never in a million years did he think life would lead him down a path of domesticity, but here he was, tucking in babies and making a mental checklist of grocery items to pick up so Seb could cook dinner. Weirdly enough, it felt _good_. He wished it could stay that way forever.

*********

Luke Darrow stared at the establishment in front of him, deciding whether or not to venture inside. From the looks of the place, you’d never suspect there was a bar operating within its walls. It had a derelict appearance, including boarded up windows, graffiti on the exterior, and a back entrance only. Not to mention that it also happened to be located amid one of London’s dodgiest boroughs.   

Still, this was the address Annie had given him. It’d taken over a week for them to coordinate their schedules so he could meet with the man she’d told him about. Even then, she kept the details of their association vague, simply saying they were collaborating to take down Sebastian Moran. Other than that, he knew nothing of the bloke besides his first name.

Steeling himself for whatever lay ahead, he pushed through the alleyway door. Immediately, he was overwhelmed by a thick haze of smoke permeating the air. It was a mixture of tobacco, cannabis, and some third indeterminable substance. Opium, perhaps? He couldn’t be sure.

Luke scanned the room, taking in the sights and sounds of his surroundings. There were a handful of people present, most seeming fairly listless and doped out of their minds. There was music playing, though not in the bar itself— it was coming from upstairs.

He watched on as a buxom, but clearly drug-addled woman guided an equally inebriated man out of his chair and up a set of steps. The pair disappeared to a higher floor of the building, for the purposes of doing god knows what.

Suddenly, a male sitting in the far corner booth waved him over. Was this the guy he was supposed to meet? Taking a chance, he approached.

“Hello?” he warily began. “Are you Colin?”

The man flashed a lopsided grin. “I am. You must be Luke. Please, have a seat.”

He obliged, noticing that Colin had a bottle of whiskey with two glasses set out.

Not missing a beat, the former military captain poured his new acquaintance a tumbler full of the potent amber liquid.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. “You picked a good blend.”

“Life’s too short to waste time drinking shite liquor.”

“Amen to that.”

The two silently eyed each other for a moment. Luke couldn’t shake the sense that he’d seen Colin before. Maybe he’d visited _The Golden Anchor_ where he worked? It was possible; the pub was a popular hangout spot. He couldn’t confirm it with any certainty, though, and it bugged the hell out of him.   

“Interesting venue to arrange a meeting at,” the slightly younger man remarked. “Probably wouldn’t have been my first choice, but I’m sure you had your reasons.”

“Yes, I did. This place is ideal for keeping things on the down-low. What happens here stays here.”

“Always a fine policy.”

Once more, Colin stared icily at the fellow across from him. Could he be trusted? He’d soon find out based on how the rest of the conversation went.

“Annie tells me she noticed you tracking an employee of James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran’s. She explained the relationship you have to this protégé of theirs.”

“Ian.” His tone grew dark as he spoke the teen’s name. “He’s having my baby and those tossers are doing everything they can to keep him away from me. They ought to mind their own goddamn business.”

“I’m not surprised to hear they’re nosing around where they don’t belong. Both are arrogant twats, and Seb…he’s got a long history of insinuating himself in other people’s lives. The man’s a fucking disease, contaminating everyone he comes in contact with.”

“Sebastian,” Luke angrily spat, as if uttering an expletive. “Of the two, I hate him most. He pulled some unforgivable shite with me a few months ago.”

“Annie mentioned he’d injured you in some manner, but didn’t go into specifics.”

“I don’t like to discuss the encounter we shared, except to say that if we ever meet again, I’m returning the favor tenfold.”

“An eye for an eye. I respect that.”

“The part I’d aim for is a bit lower than his eye, but yeah. Sometimes old school retribution is the way to go.”

_Lower than his eye?_   Colin mused. _He must mean…ouch._

“So what’s your beef with Moran?”

“He’s responsible for the death of my wife and unborn child.”

“Fuck. That’s terrible.”

“It absolutely is. Margo was a wonderful woman and we were going to be a family, right and proper. He ruined all that,” the man lamented. “There’s a special place in hell reserved for monsters like him.”

“Aye.”

Colin took a generous swig of whiskey, emptying his glass. “Let me cut to the chase,” he hoarsely declared. “I hate Moran and so do you. We both want him to burn. I suggest we work together to achieve that goal.”

Luke considered the proposition, intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”

“My objective is to make him suffer as much as I have. That would involve taking away everything he loves— his husband and his children,” the vengeful fugitive explained. “Several months ago, I almost pulled it off. I locked up his mate while he was carrying their whelps. Unfortunately, Seb enlisted in outside assistance and managed to rescue him.”

“That’s a damn shame.”

“No kidding. Not a day goes by that I don’t kick myself for it,” Colin confessed. “I now believe my mistake was going into the situation without enough backup. I need more manpower to ensure my plan’s success, but for the longest time, I refused to admit it. Annie recognized the issue, though, which is why she jumped at the chance to recruit you. She thought you might be receptive to our goal.” 

“I like the idea, but…”

“But what?” Colin peered at him intently, on the edge of his seat waiting for Luke to complete the sentence.

“But where does Ian fit into this scenario? I want him and our kid. How would aiding you bring me closer to that?”     

“Think about it, Luke. Once Jim and Seb are out of the picture, you shouldn’t have any trouble getting to Ian.” He paused, contemplating a way to sweeten the deal. “If you agree to help me with this, I’ll do the same.”

“Oh? How so?”

“We take out Jim and his brats successfully, and I’ll make sure you get Ian and his baby.”

“Not his!” Luke snapped. “ _Mine!_ ”

Colin was momentarily taken aback by the other man’s outburst, but quickly realized it was a good sign. That kind of raw fury was what he needed in a cohort. Emotion could be a powerful tool if wielded correctly, and this individual clearly had a surplus of rage simmering just beneath the surface.

“Yes, of course. It’s a sin that you’re being forcibly separated from your kin.” He hesitated for a beat, a sly look coming over his face. “Imagine it— you could help destroy the family of the bastard who’s kept you from your own flesh and blood. There’s something poetic about that, don’t you think?”    

“I do,” he answered sharply. “How shall we get started?”

Gripping the whiskey bottle, Colin poured himself a refill and topped off his tablemate’s tumbler. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he said.

Indeed, there was much to discuss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up: It will probably take me a bit longer than usual to get the next chapter written, edited, and posted because my birthday is this Friday (the 12th). I'm going to be busy finalizing party plans and indulging in some revelry. Hope everyone understands.


	113. A Gathering of Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim visits a friend in the hospital and much discussion ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally back after my week-long hiatus! Thanks for bearing with me. There are a couple things I want to quickly mention: 
> 
> 1\. When I first wrote this chapter, I absolutely hated the end result. I decided to scrap the entire second half and change the direction it was going in. That's why it took so long to get this up, but I’m *much* happier now with the current, revised version. 
> 
> 2\. Time-wise, the events in this installment are meant to take place immediately after those of the previous chapter. I thought that might already be clear, but since I haven’t posted in a while, I wanted to note it. 
> 
> **************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

_Room 216,_ Jim reminded himself as he walked down the hospital corridor carrying a fruit basket. That was the number they’d given him at the reception desk when he asked for Jack Norridge. The consulting criminal grew closer and closer with each step, until finally, he reached his target destination.    

KNOCK. KNOCK.

“Come in,” his friend beckoned.

Moriarty entered at once. “Hiiiiii. Congratulations! I brought you a little something.”

“Hallelujah, it’s a gift I can eat. After the slop they tried to pass off as ‘lunch,’ this is a welcomed treat. Get me an apple, would you?”

“Sure.” He handed him a deliciously ripe piece of produce and then set the basket aside. “Hospital food is the worst,” he commiserated. “I remember it all too well. Nothing but mushy vegetables, mystery meat, and green jello.”

“Ugh. Tell me about it. At this rate, I may have Gary start bringing in meals from an outside source.”

“That’s what I ended up—” 

“JIM!” a tiny, yet booming, voice shouted.

He turned and saw that it was Jack’s toddler son peeking out from under a blanket in the corner of the room.

“Hello, honey. You’re so covered up, I almost didn’t see you there.”

“Reginald was taking a short nap. It’s been an exciting day for him.”

The child hopped to his feet, grinning gleefully. “Am big bwudda now!”

“That must be very thrilling.” He glanced back at Jack. “What did you have, anyway?”

“A beautiful 7lbs. 4oz. boy.”

“Splendid. What’s his name?”

“Longinus DuBois.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “Wow. That’s…uh, a bold choice.”

The man burst out laughing. “I’m just joking. That would be utterly daft.”

“Thank god,” he breathed in relief. “What’s the real name?”

“An excellent question. Unfortunately, it’s also one which currently has no answer. Gary and I can’t seem to agree on the matter. You’ve got kids— you know how it is.”

“Actually, naming the twins was quite simple. I told Seb what I wanted to call them and that was it.”

“Seriously? He put up no resistance?”

“My Tiger knows better than that.”

Jack chuckled. “It’s nice to see an omega who wears the pants in the family, so to speak. Ordinarily, Gary and I function as equals. This time around, though, we’ve come to an impasse. He’d like to name our newborn ‘Archibald,’ while I’m lobbying for ‘Bertram.’”

“Wanna cawl baybuh ‘Tony!’” Reggie proudly announced.

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He looked to Moriarty and whispered, “He’s crazy about _‘Iron Man.’_ The other day, he wanted to rename the cat ‘Tony,’ too.”

The mastermind couldn’t help but smile at the notion— it was just so damn adorable.

“Penny for your thoughts, Jim. Which name do you prefer?”

“Neither are reeeeeally my style, but to each their own. If you’re at a stalemate, perhaps you should consider combining them.”

“Hmm. An interesting prospect.” The man paused, imagining a reworked moniker. “Bertram Archibald Norridge,” he said, speaking the name aloud to test how well it rolled off his tongue. “That’s not half bad. There’s a certain distinction to it. Thank you for the suggestion.”

“No problem. I’m glad to help.”

It was then that Reggie decided to scale the bed, crawling over to Jack and snuggling close beside him.

“Mumma, where Jim’s baybuhs?”

“They’re probably nestled in their cribs, slumbering soundly. How about it?” he inquired, addressing the man himself. “Are they doing better now?”

“Thankfully, they’re much improved. It was scary for a while, though, and I’m not one to be shaken easily.”

“I understand. As a parent, there’s nothing worse than seeing your child suffer and being helpless to stop it. You may recall Reggie came down with a mild version of the flu around the same time your little ones did. I’m grateful we caught it early enough that they could give him meds to knock it out quickly.”

“I nu sick, but gotta wear mask awound bwudda.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s a surgical mask,” Jack explained. “The doctor wants him to wear it because he was recently ill. The virus is likely gone, but it was recommended we err on the side of caution.”

“Do you suppose I should wear one, too? I never really got sick when my darlings did, but they gave me an antiviral drug just in case.” 

“I imagine it’s fine. Though to be safe, perhaps you ought not hold the baby if they bring him by.”

“Good idea.”

“Mumma, pwease give mask. Wanna show Jim.”

“All right, love.” He grabbed the item from the nightstand and passed it to his son.

“Fanks!” The tot proceeded to put on the protective barrier with some assistance from Jack. “Wook,” he said to Moriarty, “am Docta Weggie, M.D.!”

The genius chuckled. “What’s your specialty?”

“Nu know what spesh-ul-tee is,” Reginald replied, sounding out the word.

“It’s an area of expertise. Like right now, we’re in the obstetrics ward. The physicians assigned to this department specialize in pregnancy and childbirth. But if you went to the cardiology unit, for example, those doctors would be focused on a whole different aspect of medicine— the heart. Do you follow what I’m saying?”

“I fink so,” he answered. “Docta Weggie wanna help baybuhs. Not jus’ some baybuhs. Awwl baybuhs.”

“All of them, aye? How ambitious.”

“Yes,” Jack interjected, “let’s see if he still feels the same after assisting me with our new addition. The diaper changes and 3 a.m. feedings might convince him otherwise.”

“It’s grueling work, for sure. But totally worth it.” Moriarty truly meant that. Caring for his cubs had proven to be among the most rewarding experiences of his life. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

“Come,” Jack commanded.

Jim was pleasantly surprised when he saw Ian walk into the room. He, too, was bearing a gift— his being a box of chocolates with a decorative bow on top.

“More edibles,” the patient exclaimed. “Gary doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Where is he, by the way?” Jim asked. “Tell me he hasn’t ducked out to the office already?”

“You want the truth?”

“Truth?” he repeated curiously. “Of course.”   

“Gary still can’t believe that we’re friends and didn’t wish to be here when you visited.”

The consulting criminal was taken aback by the admission. He prided himself on not giving a damn what ordinary people thought of him, yet somehow this hurt more than it should. “Oh…I see.”

“For what it’s worth, I promptly told him off before he left.”

“Mumma cawled him a bad word,” Reggie stated in a hushed tone.

“You heard that, hon? I’m sorry, I thought you were asleep.”

“Nu, was awake.”        

“Jack, I apologize if our relationship is causing a rift between you and your husband. It wasn’t my intention to create discord in your marriage.”

“This isn’t your fault. Gary’s acting like a bloody idiot, and that’s putting it politely because my son is present.”

“Even so—”

“Even nothing. You’re my friend and he simply needs to accept it. End of story,” the man declared. “I’m done discussing this. Let’s move on to other things.” He turned to Ian. “Thanks for coming. How are you?”

“I’m okay. I feel like I should be the one asking you that, though. You just gave birth, after all.”

He shrugged. “Once you’ve been through it before, the process becomes a bit less magical and mysterious. Still, I’m delighted to welcome Bertram into the world.”

“So it was a boy? Congrats. Now my baby will have another playmate.”

Envisioning their children romping together cheered Moriarty up a little. “I can’t wait until our darlings really do start hanging out. It will be wonderful.”  

“Hey, that reminds me,” Jack spoke, “I’ve got news about the parenting group we wanted to form. It’s fortuitous both of you are around to hear this.”

“Go on,” encouraged Jim. “What’s the status?”

“Trevor is willing to coordinate an official weekly meetup for those who are interested. It will begin in either the summer or fall, depending on his scheduling constraints.”

“Excellent. I’m sure we could assemble a decent number of participants.”

“Yeah, I bet lots of blokes who attend MOPS would be willing to give it a try.”

While the trio chatted and made plans, Reggie grew restless. “Mumma?” he prodded, tugging at Jack’s arm.   

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Can bwing back bwudda? Pwease?” The toddler stared at him with wide, earnest eyes.

“You miss him, huh?”

He nodded.

“Well, I think that’s a fine idea. Then I could introduce him to my guests.”

“I’d love to see him,” Jim enthused.

“Yes,” agreed Ian, “that would be terrific.”

“I guess it’s unanimous.”

The group halted their conversation so that Jack could request the baby be brought to his room. A nurse soon arrived carrying the swaddled newborn in her arms.

“Here we are,” the medical worker announced as she gently transferred the child over to his mother. “If you need anything else, feel free to phone the desk out front.”

“Will do, thanks.” He paused, waiting until the woman was gone before commencing introductions. “Everyone, I’m proud to present Bertram Archibald Norridge, aka, Bertie.”

The omegas were all smiles, beaming delightedly at the infant. He returned their gazes, transfixed. The world was exciting and new, and the faces greeting him today were among the first he’d ever seen.  

“Burdee bawld wike gwampa.”

Jack laughed. “I suppose so. Don’t worry, though— his hair will grow in eventually.”

“It’s hard to believe we start out so small,” Ian marveled.

“Oh, I know. Sometimes I look at Eddie and can barely fathom the idea that one day he’ll probably be as big as Seb. It’s surreal.”

“They grow up too fast,” Jack remarked. “Seems like just yesterday Reggie was that size.”

“Am big boy now,” the tot proclaimed. “Gotta pwotect bwudda as bes’ I can. Dadda say so.”

Moriarty smiled. “I’m sure you’ll do a fine job.” He hesitated for a second, considering something. “Jack? Once you’re out of the hospital, let’s plan a playdate. I want to see how our children interact.”

“Okay, but I wouldn’t expect much. At their respective ages, social responses are rather limited.”  

“Fair point, but it’s never too early to familiarize them with one another.”

“Hey,” Ian spoke up, “could I hold the baby?”

“Certainly.” The man eased his son into his friend’s welcoming arms. “Be careful to support his head and neck.”

“Right.” He cradled the tiny bundle, in awe. “Hi, honey. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope my little girl is as cute as you are.”

“I think she will be,” said Jack. “It won’t be long until you get to do this with her, for that matter.”

“Yes, and I’m utterly petrified.”

“Really? You seem like a natural. Just look at how relaxed Bertie is.” Indeed, the baby appeared quite calm, not at all anxious about being in a stranger’s embrace.

“He’s precious, there’s no denying it. But I worry I won’t be a good enough parent. You two have your husbands to help,” he noted. “Me…I’ve got nobody.”

The older men exchanged a concerned glance. They hated to see Ian doubt himself.

“If you need extra assistance, you can always come to us,” Jim assured.

“It’s kind of you to say that, but you’ve got your own families to contend with. I’d feel terribly guilty distracting either of you from what should be your top priority,” he stated. “I’ll muddle through— it’s what I’ve done forever.” The teen sounded so somber and resigned to his fate, it was troubling.

“Perhaps it’s not my place to ask, but what happened to your baby’s father?” queried Jack. “I understand your relationship must’ve ended badly since you’ve refused to discuss him at our MOPS meetings, but maybe once your daughter’s born, you could find a way to work something out. Make it so that she’s got two parents and you won’t have to pull double duty.”

Moriarty’s breathing hitched as he witnessed his friend’s unwitting faux pas. Bringing up Luke would only serve to open a gigantic can of worms. It wasn’t even Jack’s fault, not really— he had no idea who’d sired Ian’s child and what the circumstances were. This was an ignorance-induced err of the highest order.  

As predicted, the youth’s expression sank. “‘Ended badly’ doesn’t begin to cover it. I don’t want him anywhere near Matilda. That bastard should be in prison, or better yet, in the ground.”

Reggie gasped. “Bad word!”

“My apologies, but he’s a rotten guy and I believe monsters deserve to be called what they are.”

The boy paused, thinking about it. “I agwee. Docta Weggie wan’ pwotect baybuhs from him.”  

“That’s incredibly sweet of you, dear. This world could use more upstanding, respectful lads.”

“I do my best to raise Reginald as the perfect gentleman,” Jack affirmed. “And for the record, I didn’t mean to upset you. I wonder, though— if this bloke’s as horrible as you claim, and has committed jailable offenses, why is he still walking the streets?”

Ian hung his head low, passing the baby back to its mother. An awkward silence stifled the room while he tried, and failed, to articulate a response.

Jim reached over and placed a hand on his protégé’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t!” he snapped, swiftly looking up again. “The reason he hasn’t been locked away is because I’m too chicken to tell the police what he’s done. He scares the hell out of me.”

“Nu be scawwed,” Reggie soothed. “Dat what munstas wan’.”

All three men stared at the precocious toddler, amazed that such an astute observation could come from one so young.

“You’re awfully wise,” Ian remarked.

“I wearn from _‘Iron Man.’_ ” His voice, though babyish, rang with confidence and conviction.

The trio’s hearts were truly warmed. Amid the cynicism that permeated their lives, Jack’s firstborn was a source of pure, undiluted bliss. He could make them smile even during the darkest moments.

Jack shifted, holding Bertie with one arm while wrapping the other around his eldest son. “Darling, if I told you I loved you every hour of the day, it wouldn’t be enough.”     

“Wuv you too, Mumma.”

The sudden atmosphere of affection had Jim aching for his angels. He made a promise to himself right then and there that when he got home, he’d insist upon staging a ‘family night.’ He, Seb, and the twins would spend the entire evening together, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

Moriarty glanced at Ian and an idea quickly sprung to mind. He nudged the teen, commanding his attention. “Are you doing anything later?”

“No, why?”

“Because I’d like to invite you to dinner at my house tonight. Seb’s cooking chicken parmigiana, and trust me when I say it’s amaaaazing.”

“Oh, that does sound good. I haven’t had a homemade meal in ages.”

“Then drop by and prepare to be wowed.”

“You’re certain I wouldn’t be imposing?”

“Never,” the genius assured. “Let’s plan on eating at around 7 o’clock. Come a little early and maybe we can fit in a game of chess beforehand.”

“I…uh…this is embarrassing to admit, but I don’t know how to play chess.”

“No worries. I’ll teach you.”

“Well, okay. 7 it is.”

“Wish I could get in on the action,” Jack quipped. “If lunch is anything to go by, I shudder to think what horrors await on St. Bart’s dinner menu.”

Jim laughed lightly. “Once you’re released, I might be persuaded to break bread with you too.”

“Careful,” he teased, “make me an offer like that and I _will_ hold you to it.”

“Please do. Who knows, perhaps I’ll even bake something for the occasion.”

“That settles it— when I get out of here, your place is my first stop.”

“I look forward to it.”

After a bit more chatting, the visit finally wound down. Jack was tired and in need of rest, while Jim had grocery items to acquire. As for Ian, he just wanted to go home and relax until it was time to dine at Moriarty’s magnificent manor. They parted ways not with sorrow, but with purpose, knowing they would see each other again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is confused by Reggie's baby talk dialogue, I'm willing to translate it for clarification. 
> 
> *************************
> 
> Sneak Preview: In the next chapter, Jim and Seb's stalkers will renew their efforts against the couple. Stay tuned as the situation unfolds.


	114. Hell is Paved with Good Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple trip out yields more than Jim bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally started writing this chapter just before Easter, which is why the holiday is mentioned therein. It took me a little longer than expected to finish, but it's also a bit lengthier than usual, too. Hopefully that helps make up for the delay. 
> 
> *****************************
> 
> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Jim was grinning from ear to ear. He’d just finished dressing the twins in stylish springtime outfits and they looked even cuter than he imagined they would. Eddie wore a polo shirt with corduroy pants and suspenders, while Essie was clad in an adorable daisy-print frock and matching bonnet. They were picture-perfect for what he had planned.

“Let’s go, darlings. We don’t want to be late.”

He placed them in their side-by-side double stroller and rode the elevator downstairs. When he reached the lower level, he was greeted to a shirtless Sebastian in the kitchen.

“Ooh, now there’s a sight I could get used to.”

The sniper turned around. “Hello, love. I was about to brew a spot of tea.” He paused, taking in the full view of his family. “You headed somewhere?”

“Yes, I’m bringing our little ones to the mall to have their photo taken with the Easter Bunny.”

“Oh.” Seb sounded rather surprised. “Are you sure it’s safe? After how sick they got following their last social event, I’ve been nervous to allow them anywhere near a crowd.”

“Me too, which is why I’ve arranged a private meetup. There won’t be any long, germ-filled lines to wade through. We’ll simply check in at the Customer Service desk and be escorted to a restricted-access room.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“Honey, by now, must you even ask?”

He thought about it for a second. “You wrote them a big, fat check.”

“I prefer to think of it as a charitable contribution,” Jim said with a smirk. “It’s going towards the construction of a new indoor fountain.”

“Right. Just be careful. You never know what could happen while certain people are on the loose.”

“I’ve got that part covered as well. One of our bodyguards, Rocco, will trail me and hang back at a distance. If trouble arises, all I have to do is press a button on my speed dial and he’ll be there to handle the situation.”

“No kidding? That’s good to hear.” Usually it was a struggle getting Jim to use their security detail. Today’s cooperation was a refreshing change of pace.

“My goal is to ensure that everything runs smoothly. This will be Essie and Eddie’s first holiday photo. I want to leave no room for error.”

“Sensible reasoning, dear.”

“Indeed. Would you care to join us?”

“I’d love to, but I’m scheduled to attend a meeting at headquarters in an hour. I’m only bumming around here until it’s time to go.”

“Ah, come on. Play hooky and we’ll go to the mall together. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m sorry, Magpie. I’ve got to work.”

He peered at his partner. “Do you reeeeeally? I’m your boss. I guarantee you won’t get in trouble for missing the meeting.”

“Jimmy, that’s not the point.”

“Then what, may I ask, is?”

“My point is that someone has to run your empire because you aren’t doing it anymore. As second-in-command, the task falls to me. I don’t have the luxury of skipping out on meetings. I’ve got to keep business afloat.”

The genius stood in stunned silence. He hadn’t expected Seb to speak so bluntly. In fact, it actually kind of stung.

“Wait, that didn’t come out right.” Moran rushed to amend his hasty remarks, but the hurt that flashed across Jim’s face told him the damage was already done.

“I think it came out exactly the way you intended it to.”

“No, I didn’t mean to be harsh. I just wanted to explain why I can’t beg off work whenever I please.”

“Yeah, right. You think I don’t give a toss about the criminal web I dedicated most of my adult life to building.”

“I didn’t say that. You’re twisting my words.”

“How else am I supposed to take it when you suggest I’m negligent towards my own enterprise?”

Sebastian sighed. “Can we not do this, please? I don’t want to argue.”

“Neither do I, but you’re the one who opened this Pandora’s box.”

“You’re reading way too much into what I said.”

“Am I? You make it sound like you have to run the business all by yourself, but that’s patently untrue. I’m here. You could consult with me.”

“When, Jimmy?”

He furrowed a brow. “When what?”

“When could I consult you? You tend to the babies morning, noon, and night,” Moran stated. “I don’t begrudge that in the slightest. In fact, I think it’s wonderful how bonded the three of you are. But consequently, it leaves very little time to deal with work-related matters. When did you last hold a conference call or send out an official correspondence? It’s been ages, kitten.”

Moriarty wanted to disagree. Wanted to refute his spouse’s claims and demand an apology. He couldn’t, though, because Seb was correct. He’d sworn to stay abreast of what happened at headquarters, but work had fallen to the wayside these past few months in favor of—

_Oh my._ The Irishman’s breathing suddenly hitched as an epiphany washed over him. “Tiger…you’re not wrong. Our children are the most important thing in the world to me. Them and you. Everything else comes second.”

HISSS. HISSS.

The tea kettle whistled shrilly, pulling the couple from their respective thoughts.

“I’d better get that,” the assassin spoke. He scrambled to the stove, removing the pot from the burner.

“I should be on my way as well.”

Seb nodded. “See you later, hon. Maybe we can talk more then?”

“Maybe.”

Even as Jim departed, tension remained. Both knew what was coming— the inevitable discussion addressing whether or not Moriarty would continue with his criminal empire, or if he would retire to focus on family life. They’d touched upon the issue months ago, but had come to no definite conclusion. Now it sounded like he was leaning towards the latter, and if so, that was fine by Sebastian— he would support his Magpie no matter what.

*********

Buzzing. Buzzing. Buzzing.

Jim’s thoughts raced in a frenzy. The whole ride over, he replayed the exchange he and Moran had shared. He’d not anticipated the confrontational nature of their chat, nor the realization that sprung from it.

_My empire no longer comes first._

It was a bombshell to bear. After so many years of being driven by power and ambition, his priorities were irreparably changed. When he looked at those darling babes secured in the backseat, he was filled with a swell of joy unlike anything he’d previously known. It was different from the love he felt for Seb. This was nurturing and protective; parental at its core.

He never wanted to leave his children. Never wanted them to grow up as he had— orphaned and alone. That’s what they’d be if something happened to him and Sebastian. In their line of work, death was an all too real possibility. He used to relish that aspect; revel in the danger they faced on a regular basis. Now, with Essie and Eddie in his life, such recklessness seemed unconscionable.     

Moriarty was finally able to put his mind on other matters when they arrived at the shopping center. The check-in process was blessedly hassle-free, and thanks to the generous donation he’d made, everyone on staff treated him like royalty. They’d even gone so far as to bestow a complimentary gift basket featuring baby-related products and discount vouchers for some of the stores. 

The genius watched on as his sweethearts had their pictures taken. He wasn’t sure what to expect at first, having heard stories about kids who were terrified by shopping mall Easter Bunnies and Santa Clauses. For better or worse, Edward and Estella had no problem fraternizing with a 6-foot-tall rabbit. Individual photos were snapped, as well as one that included them both. The images would certainly be framed once they got home.

“Your Papa’s going to be over the moon when he sees these,” Jim announced to his precious progeny. He wheeled them into the lobby and looked around for Rocco, the bodyguard who was meant to be waiting for him. Curiously, he didn’t see the man anywhere.

_Hmm._ Maybe he was in the bathroom, or out taking a smoke break. Either way, Jim was annoyed.

He sat down on a bench and pulled out his phone, deciding to text the AWOL guard.

_JM_

_Where are you? I’m at the agreed upon spot._

No reply.

 

_JM_

_Hello? Are you in the building?_

Still nothing.

 

_JM_

_My patience is wearing thin. If I don’t see you here soon, consider yourself sacked._

 

A few more minutes passed and Jim tucked his mobile device away. He glimpsed the babies, smiling softly when he saw that they’d drifted to sleep. They always looked so serene while at rest.

In light of his security going MIA, the mastermind contemplated what to do next. Given his current location, the answer seemed obvious: he was going to shop with a vengeance. If the guard eventually turned up, great. If not…well, at least he’d have some lovely new purchases to show for his trouble.     

*********

Almost two hours had gone by since Moriarty opted to indulge in a bit of retail therapy. He was feeling particularly munificent, the presence of his children no doubt having a direct influence on his mood. As such, everything he bought was intended for other people. Gifts of clothing, electronics, and jewelry were acquired from a variety of stores throughout the mall.

Amazingly, during all that time, Essie and Eddie remained remarkably well-behaved. He’d witnessed plenty of infants screaming bloody murder while their parents attempted to shop. Not his angels, though. They really were the best babies in the world, he was sure of it.

Jim glanced at his amethyst-dial Rolex. The twins’ scheduled feeding was coming up soon. Some mothers fed their little ones in public, but he preferred to do it at home, where it was easier to handle two babies at once and prevent the formula in their bottles from getting cold.            

“We’ll just visit one more store, darlings. Then it’s back to the house. Daddy will give you a special treat for being so good today— organic strawberry-flavored formula. How does that sound?”

His children stared up at him with their big, beautiful eyes. Though too young to provide a proper verbal response, they could communicate a great deal using only facial expressions. At the moment, it seemed they were very much content.   

The consulting criminal decided that _Harvey Nichols_ would be their final stop. Upon entering the shop, he immediately noticed it was packed. Apparently, a major sale in the ‘Body  & Bath’ department had drawn a sizeable crowd.

_How advantageous,_ he mused. Moriarty was always in the market for beauty products. Seb sometimes teased him that their master bathroom contained enough lotions, moisturizers, and cleansers to be mistaken for a cosmetics counter. He wasn’t far off in his assessment.   

A rush of excitement coursed through the luxury-loving omega as he reached that specific section of the store. Items were marked down 15, 20, and even 25% off the normal retail price. It was like Christmas come early.

He was about to charge through a swarm of shoppers when a thought occurred to him. _Is it safe for my sugarplums to be around all these people?_ He’d originally gone out of his way to avoid the germ-filled masses, but now here he was, standing in the midst of an undeniably congested environment.    

_We won’t stay long. I’ll grab a few things and be in and out,_ he told himself. _Once_ _I flash my black card, they’ll move me to the front of the line._ He didn’t make a habit of flaunting his unlimited credit line, but on those rare occasions when he did, it got retailers’ attention.    

Jim took a deep breath and forged ahead. He was ready.

 

 

Twenty minutes later, the Irishman had a basket full of high-end goods. It was getting unwieldy to carry his haul of beauty products and push the babies’ stroller at the same time, though. Not to mention the navigation issues he faced with so many people crammed into the aisles. The conditions reminded him of footage he’d seen on the news depicting crazed Black Friday shoppers in the U.S.

Moriarty tallied up the items he’d gathered. There wasn’t much more he was interested in. He’d simply bring his order to the checkout counter and—

The genius gasped, stopping dead in his tracks. Just when he thought he was done, he spotted the holy grail of skincare products: _La Prairie Skin Caviar Luxe Soufflé Body Cream._ He’d heard wonderful things about the Swiss-imported anti-aging lotion, but had yet to try it himself. Seeing it on display at a 20% discount was too tempting to resist.

There weren’t many jars left. If he was going to buy one, he’d have to act fast. With fierce determination, Jim neared the sales rack. Patrons bobbed and weaved past him, blocking his path. He inwardly fumed, recalling how much he despised crowds.   

Moriarty persevered nonetheless. He was almost close enough to reach the item on the shelf. Almost…almost…

BAM.

From out of nowhere, a large man forcefully barreled into him. He was knocked to the floor, his basket scattering. When he attempted to stand up, he was thwarted by the heavy traffic around him. People were swarming at every turn, some even grumbling that he was in their way.

Jim was absolutely livid. How dare this bunch of arseholes treat him so appallingly? He had half a mind to rescind the donation he’d made to the mall. They could bankroll their own damn fountain if this was how they permitted VIP customers to be handled.

When he finally got back on his feet, he was prepared to walk out without buying a single thing. As far as he was concerned, the establishment didn’t deserve his money and had lost a customer for life. In fact, he would register an official compla—

_Oh god._ Time itself seemed to freeze as Moriarty saw that the stroller was gone, and with it, his children too.

He looked in all directions. The crowd made it difficult to see much, but he could hear just fine. The sounds of his babies crying were unmistakable. He followed the noise, pushing through hordes of shoppers in the process.

Once he reached a section of the store that was less busy, he spotted the figure wheeling his angels away and redoubled his efforts to catch up to them.

“STOP!” he shouted, frantically racing after the kidnapper. The person in question was dressed to conceal their identity, though it was no mystery to Jim. He knew it had to be his and Seb’s stalkers at work.

Eventually, they came to the _Harvey Nichols_ entrance. Moriarty was hell-bent on not allowing the abductor to leave. He was making real headway towards his goal, when suddenly, a set of hands yanked him back.

“Let go!” he yelled. The Irishman struggled furiously, an involuntary whimper escaping his lips as he watched the figure exit the shop and head into the walkway area of the mall. 

“Why are you chasing that woman?” a male voice demanded. It was a uniformed security guard.

“Woman? Are you positive?” Jim hadn’t seen the individual’s face, but if this bloke did, it was all he needed to confirm that the abductor was Annie.

“Yes. Now answer me. Why were you pursuing her?”

“Because she stole my children! You’re abetting a kidnapper by letting her get away!”

The mall employee paled. “What?”

“That bitch took off with my babies! If you don’t believe they’re mine, ask the staff at Customer Services. They treated me better than anyone in this store has.”

“Sir, you’re making a serious charge. If this is a ploy of some kind, it’s best to admit it now. Otherwise, protocol dictates we have to put the building on lockdown to prevent the suspect from fleeing.”

“Yes,” he agreed without hesitation. “Do that. Lockdown the building.”

“As you wish, sir.”

The security guard called in the report. Exits to the mall were sealed off and the location was searched.

It didn’t take long to locate Edward and Estella. Their stroller was found abandoned in a nearby bathroom. The culprit, however, remained at large. It appeared that, having not gone far with the twins, Annie was able to hightail it out of the shopping center prior to the automatic locks kicking in.

At the moment, Jim didn’t care. Nothing mattered except for the fact that his darlings were unharmed and in his loving embrace once again.  

“It’s okay, sweethearts. Daddy’s got you now,” he soothed. Both infants were wailing terribly when discovered by the security crew. He was doing whatever he could to calm them, though to be honest, he was very shaken up and could’ve used a bit of comfort himself.

The mastermind was soon approached by a police officer. Authorities were notified due to the nature of the incident, and unsurprisingly, they wished to speak with him.

“Sir, I understand you’re probably upset right now, but I’d like to ask you a few questions.” The cop was a young woman whose tone sounded genuinely sympathetic.

Jim really didn’t want to deal with police, but if it helped him get out of there quicker, he’d play along. “Sure, what do you need to know?”

“For starters, someone from mall security stated that the perpetrator was female. Did you recognize the suspect?”

“No,” he lied. “I’d never seen her before in my life.”

“Okay. Do you know of anyone who might be motivated to do something like this?”

“Motivated to steal my children? Not hardly.”

“You think this was a random event, then?”

“Yes. There are a lot of nutters in the world.” He bent down, kissing both babies on the forehead. “I’m just glad she didn’t take them far.” That part was true— it made him sick to imagine what could’ve happened if she’d been allowed to leave the premises with them.

“As an officer of the law, it’s always a relief to see a swift reunion in situations such as these. We’ll be reviewing the surveillance footage to try to identify the abductor.”

He nodded. “I hope you catch her.”

“So do I, sir. Is there a phone number you can be reached at in case further questions arise?”

“Of course.” Jim proceeded to give her bogus digits, and flashed a fake ID when she asked for that, too. London’s most dangerous man never, ever worked with the authorities and he wasn’t about to begin now. He would handle matters in his own way, outside the bounds of the legal system.

“Thank you for your cooperation. Would you like a police escort back home?”

“I appreciate the offer, but no. I can drive myself.” Her inquiry did get him thinking— what became of the bodyguard who actually _was_ intended to be his escort? After today’s ordeal, he couldn’t help but assume the worst.

Moriarty brought his cubs to the car. Though he’d managed to subdue them some, they still showed signs of agitation. When they got home, he would make sure to give them lots of extra cuddles.  

“Daddy’s sorry you had to go through that,” he said as he secured the babies into their safety seats. “It must’ve been awfully scary. But don’t worry, my doves. Papa and I are going to have a serious talk about this. There’s much to discuss.”

Once Essie and Eddie were settled, Jim went to collapse the stroller so he could pack it in the trunk. It was then that he noticed something he’d initially missed— a folded up piece of paper was tucked beneath one of the twins’ blankets.  

His blood ran cold. He knew damn well it hadn’t been there before the kidnapping attempt. Past experience suggested it was likely a message from his and Seb’s stalkers.

With jittering hands, he opened the note and read what was inside.

_You probably think you were victorious today. You’re wrong. This was just a taste of what’s next. Know that I’m out there, watching and waiting. Readying to decimate your family the way Moran did mine. No matter how many guards you hire, it won’t make a difference in the end. I’ll always find you and your brats._

_P.S. – I’ve left a special gift from me to you in the boot of your car. Enjoy._

Jim was utterly panic-stricken. His eyes widened while his breathing grew heavy. He shook like a leaf as he slowly crept up to the rear of the vehicle.

“Tiger, I wish you were here.” But Seb wasn’t, and so the thoroughly rattled omega would have to be strong for his children’s sake.  

Summoning every ounce of courage he could, Moriarty popped open the trunk. He shuddered, his gut instinct proven true. There lay the lifeless body of Rocco, the man who was meant to provide him with security on today’s excursion.   

“Oh fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	115. Tangled Webs & Turning Points – Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian have a candid conversation about what their next move should be regarding their stalkers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

Sebastian Moran walked through the front door of his house, sweat-soaked and with grit under his nails. He’d spent the better part of the day burying his and Jim’s bodyguard, Rocco. No easy feat in near 90°F temperatures.

If it was up to him, he’d have just burned the body, but Roger— his old army buddy and organizer of the current security team— wouldn’t allow it. He insisted that the man didn’t want to be cremated, and since Rocco had no family to honor him, he took it upon himself to respect his final wishes.

All things considered, the sniper was glad to be home. He peeled off his shirt and shoes and headed upstairs in search of a shower. As he strode through the hall, something caught his attention. There was a melodic sound coming from the nursery. Curious, he crept outside the door to listen.

A smile graced Seb’s face when he realized what he was hearing. _Jim’s singing to the babies._ It didn’t seem to be in English, though. _Gaelic, maybe? Hmm._    

He stepped into the room and his heart melted at what he saw. Moriarty was sitting on the rocking chair with an infant cradled in each arm, gently ushering them to dreamland.

The Irishman looked up, acknowledging Sebastian’s presence, but not stopping what he was doing. Once the song was over, he placed the twins in their cribs and bid them adieu. “Sleep well, my darlings. Daddy loves you.” He turned down the lights and approached his spouse. “Enjoy the show?”

“I did. That was beautiful, Magpie. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before.”

“It’s a lullaby my mum used to sing,” he fondly recalled. “She had a fabulous voice. My rendition doesn’t do it justice.”

“It sounded great to me.”   

“That’s sweet of you to say.” Jim paused, his thoughts wandering. “Let’s convene elsewhere so we can discuss matters.”

“Good idea.”

The couple ventured to their bedroom where Moran finished stripping down while Moriarty watched.

“Must you do that _now_?” the genius bemoaned. Seeing his magnificent mate in the buff was distracting as hell, especially when he was aiming to conduct a serious conversation.

“Yes, I _must_. Today, I’ve had to drive to the countryside, dig a sizeable hole in the woods, heft a 200-lbs. corpse from the car into that same hole, refill the area with dirt and leaves, and then drive back here— all during an unseasonable heatwave. Suffice to say, I’m in desperate need of a cool shower and an even colder beer,” he declared. “Besides, I don’t require clothing to talk.”

“You may not, but…”

“But what?”

“When I see you like this— nude and glistening— it’s difficult to concentrate on anything else.”

Seb flashed a sharky grin. “My goodness, you mean the mere sight of my nakedness has felled the impervious James Moriarty? How flattering.”

“Don’t mock me. You’re my alpha. You know the sway you have.”

“And vice versa, kitten.” He closed in on the smaller man, pressing his firm, virile body against him.

Jim inhaled sharply at the contact, his senses electrified. “God, you smell amaaaazing.”

Moran laughed. “Yeah, grave digging on a hot day does wonders for my fragrance.”

“No, really, dear. Your scent is a mix of sandalwood and cinnamon. It’s very…enticing.”    

“Is that so?” he purred, his velvety voice oozing with charm.

“Oh, yessss.”

The duo locked eyes, blue and brown uniting in a smoldering gaze.

“Shower with me. We can talk afterward.” He continued to lean in, his calloused fingertips stroking the smooth flesh of Jim’s arm. “We’ll be refreshed…have clearer heads.”

Moriarty grunted softly. It was an appealing offer. He’d been badly shaken up by the events of the day and could certainly use the comfort he knew his partner would bring.

“Okay, hon.”

Following those magic words of permission, Seb sprang into action. He freed the mastermind of his clothes and carried him to the luxurious bathroom that adjoined their sleeping quarters. Though the intent was ostensibly to bathe, neither could resist the inexorable chemistry between them. Caresses led to kisses, which paved the way for more to come. Soon, they were enveloped in a haze of passion and want. It was exactly what Jim needed— to feast on the sweet succor only his beloved Tiger could provide.

 

 

When the twosome reemerged almost an hour later, both were wearing fluffy monogrammed robes and precious little else. Moran immediately assumed a reclining position on the bed, while his hubby went to check on their slumbering babes.

Upon Moriarty’s return, he took his rightful place alongside Seb, nestling close to him. “Our poppets are snoozing away. I’m grateful they’re able to rest after what happened today.”      

“You’ve done an excellent job of making them feel safe again, Magpie.”

“I try,” he said. “You didn’t see them earlier— they were terrified and wailing when security found them. Not normal crying, but actual wailing. I’ve never heard a sadder sound in my life.”

“I’m sure it was awful. Take solace in the fact that they were discovered swiftly and unharmed.”

“Believe me, I do. Even so, it’s upsetting.”

“I should’ve accompanied you to the mall,” Sebastian lamented. “You asked me to, but I refused. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got no reason to apologize. Business needed tending to and you did what was necessary.”

“Perhaps. I just can’t help but think that things might’ve been different if I were there. I could’ve protected you and the babies.”

“Don’t go down that path, darling. I’ve beaten myself up about the same thing. It’ll only drive you crazy.”

“It’s hard not to feel guilty. An alpha should take care of their kin, and yet within the past year, you’ve been kidnapped and now our children almost suffered the same fate. I’ve failed my family.”

“Hush. I won’t have you spouting nonsense like that.”

“It’s the truth, kitten.”

“No, it isn’t,” Jim declared. “You do _so_ much. More than most men ever would. You’re a blessing to our family, not a failure.”

The sniper gave his husband’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you, love.” He fell silent for a moment, contemplating the day’s developments. There were important issues to discuss. “Regarding what went down at the mall, I believe it has the earmarks of a coordinated attack.”

“Well, obviously. I just don’t know how they managed to pull it off. I understand stashing a body in the trunk— locks can be picked. But the rest…” he stopped, shaking his head. “I can’t figure out how they knew precisely where I’d be, and when. Going to _Harvey Nichols_ was a last minute decision. There’s no way anyone could’ve predicted I’d be there, yet somehow Annie was ready and waiting.”

“It’s highly disconcerting,” Seb agreed. “There’s another element that bothers me, too.”

“What’s that?”

“Annie was doing Colin’s bidding— no surprise there. But you also mentioned that a man knocked you over before she absconded with the stroller.”

“Right. It couldn’t have been Colin himself because the build was larger, and regrettably, I didn’t get a look at the bastard’s face to ID him.”

“It makes me wonder if that part was random, or if it was a calculated maneuver.”

Moriarty pondered the thought, paling as he did. “Oh no…” Sebastian’s observation chilled him to the bone. “If it’s the latter, then that would suggest there’s someone else working with them. An individual we weren’t previously aware of.” It was a horrifying prospect. Having two stalkers was bad enough. Adding a third would be pure hell.  

“Let’s not panic. Supposing there is another accomplice, there’s no saying it will change the dynamics all that much.”

“No?” the consulting criminal balked. “One needn’t be a mathematician to realize that 3:2 odds are unfavorable.”

“We’ve gone up against worse and come out fine.”

“Yes, but that was in the past. Here and now, more is at stake.”  

Moran paused to reflect on his mate’s statement. “You mean—”

“The babies,” he spoke, completing Seb’s sentence. “It isn’t merely the two of us. We’ve got Essie and Eddie to consider. Their welfare is paramount. I’d sooner die than allow harm to come to them.”

“Don’t say that, Jimmy. We promised never to speak of death in context to each other again, remember?”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I just need you to grasp how important this is to me. I used to worry that my love for you made me vulnerable. And now, with those sweet, wonderful cubs of ours…” he trailed off, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “It’s like they’re pieces of my heart existing outside my own body. If, god forbid, something was to befall them, I’d never recover. It would be the end of me,” he confessed. “So we can’t let that happen. We _must_ protect them at all costs.”

Sebastian nodded reassuringly. “Of course we will. They’ll be the safest babies in Britain.”

“You bet your arse they will be. I’ll accept nothing less.”

“Shall I make arrangements to hire more security, then? I could give Roger a call and—”

“No more security guards,” the genius quickly protested. “Did you not read the note Colin wrote?”

“I did, yes. It was a lot of big talk meant to intimidate.”

“I don’t think that part was a boast, Seb. I wish it were, but let’s face facts— he trained as a sniper, just like you, and he’s spurred on by revenge, the most compelling motivator there is. Colin Taylor won’t stop until he’s gotten what he wants, security be damned.”

“Okay, what do you propose we do instead?” The former colonel wasn’t quite sure what his partner had in mind.

“I say we find out where Colin and Annie are hiding. Turn the tables and hunt them.”

“That’s…actually not a bad idea.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because sometimes I haven’t a clue what you’re going to come up with next,” he remarked. “This ‘hunting’ concept is intriguing, though.”

“It’s long overdue. We couldn’t take such action while I was pregnant, nor after I’d just given birth. But now our angels are almost 3-months-old and I’m feeling pretty spry. The time is right to strike.”

“I’m on board, kitten. You and me, putting paid to these lunatics once and for all.”

Moriarty smiled devilishly. “I can’t wait. My sole proviso is that we approach the situation carefully. No reckless, unplanned decisions. Everything has to be plotted out meticulously.”

Moran arched a brow. “Gotta admit, I never imagined you’d insist upon caution. You’ve always been an impulsive bloke.”

“I can’t permit that way of life anymore, not in respect to our personal safety,” he explained. “I don’t want Edward and Estella to be orphans. The very notion of leaving them alone in this world is harrowing. No, that isn’t a strong enough word. It’s downright soul-rending. We’ve got to ensure our survival.”

“I get it, love. I don’t want them to grow up without us either. There’s so much we have to teach them and show them. So many experiences we’ve yet to share as a family.”

“You think about that kind of stuff, Tiger?” 

“I sure do. I picture what certain things will be like— holidays and vacations; special outings where we’re all together. I daydream often.”

“Me too.” He hesitated, a thought popping into his head. “Speaking of holidays, would you care to see the babies’ Easter photos?”

“Yes, that’d be splendid.”

Jim retrieved the images from an envelope on the dresser and sat back down beside Seb. “I’m going to frame these and hang them on the wall. I haven’t decided which room. Maybe the reception area, so people can see them when they first walk in.”

“That’s a nice idea,” the assassin commented as he reviewed the photographs. “Cameras are very kind to our darlings.”

“Oh, I agree. I’ve never seen them take a shot that wasn’t utterly adoooorable. They really could be models. Just look at—”

BOOM.

The couple was suddenly jarred by a loud noise emanating from outside. Moments later, a blare of sirens followed.

“What the hell?” Moran wondered, confusion painted across his face.

BOOM.

Another explosion rang out, and it wouldn’t be the last. Nearly a half dozen were registered within the span of about 15 minutes.

Phones started buzzing. Jim and Seb received calls at almost the exact same time. The men exchanged a nervous glance as they answered their mobile devices.

“What? Are you serious?”

“How?”

“No…”

“Bollocks.”

Eventually, they both hung up and stared at each other, stunned by the news of what had transpired.

“Those noises,” Jim began, “they were…”

“Properties of yours.”

“Yeah.” The consulting criminal’s expression was ashen and in disbelief.

It seemed that a number of buildings owned by Moriarty had gone kaput, blown up only minutes apart.

WAAAAAAH.

Cries blasted from the baby monitor on the nightstand. Though the twins were heavy sleepers, it appeared even they had their limit.

Jim instinctively stood up to go comfort Essie and Eddie, when a realization hit him. He froze, his dark eyes widening with panic.

“Seb, you were at headquarters today. Was Ian there?”

The blonde paused, trying to remember.

“Answer me, dammit!”

“I’m thinking,” he tersely replied. “No, I don’t believe he was. At least not that I saw.”

“Oh fuck. I own the building he lives in. For all I know, it could’ve been one of those that exploded!”

A sickened look washed over Moran. “I’ll tend to our little ones. You try to get a hold of Ian.”

“Okay.”

As Sebastian rushed from the room, Jim frantically dialed his protégé, praying the young man would pick up.

 

 

To Be Continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first serious attempt at fanfiction. Please keep an open mind and be kind.


	116. Tangled Webs & Turning Points – Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian must deal with the immediate aftermath of their stalkers’ latest attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“Come on,” Moriarty muttered. “Pick up the bloody phone.”

It was ringing, and ringing, and ring—

“Hello?” Ian answered at last.

“Oh, thank god.”

“Jim? What’s the matter?”

“A series of properties I own around the city were… _destroyed_.” The word begrudgingly fell from his lips, sounding like an expletive of sorts. “I wanted to confirm your status, seeing as how you live in one of my buildings.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s what caused all the noise outside?” he asked in astonishment.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Everything’s intact over here. Should I evacuate just in case?”

“I don’t believe that’s necessary,” the consulting criminal replied. “I haven’t heard any more explosions within the past 10 minutes. I think they’re done.”

The young man breathed a sigh of relief. “I hope so. What exactly happened?”

“I don’t know yet, but if I had to guess, I’d wager Colin and Annie were involved. It’s been a banner day for them.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I took my children to the mall earlier and they were nearly kidnapped by those maniacs. They also killed my bodyguard and stowed his corpse in the boot of my car. Got off scot-free on both accounts.”

Ian gasped. “Dear lord, that’s terrible. Are Essie and Eddie okay?”

“Yes, my darlings are fine. It was a traumatic experience, though.”

“I couldn’t even begin to imagine the horror. I’m so sorry, Jim.”

“Trust me, those tossers will be facing karmic retribution. What goes around comes around.”

“Good. They deserve to rot for the shite they’ve pulled.”

“Indeed. And it gets worse, because Seb and I suspect there may be a third person working with them.”

“You’re joking? Who on earth would be foolish enough to do that?”

“Someone with a death wish.”

“Clearly,” he agreed. “How are you holding up after everything that’s gone on?”

“Considering the day I’ve described, how do you think I’m doing?”

“You needn’t get snippy. I’m just concerned, is all.”

Moriarty sighed. “Pardon my poor attitude. I’m rather on edge at the moment.”

“I understand. I’ve been fairly anxious myself lately.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Uh…no reason,” he shyly stammered.

“Ian, it’s no use lying to me. I can read you like a book, even over the phone.”

Their conversation came to an awkward halt as the teen clammed up. Jim sensed that whatever was troubling him must be serious.

“Out with it. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I…uh…you know…”

“No, I don’t. That’s why I’m insisting you elaborate.”

“Okay, fine.” He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. “Remember when I said someone might be watching me?”

“Yeah. You hadn’t mentioned it in a while, so I assumed the activity stopped.”

“Not quite.”

The genius’s heart sank. “What’s the situation?”

“About a week ago, I started receiving strange letters in the mail. Some are cryptic, while others are more overtly threatening.”

“I don’t suppose there was a return address listed?”

“Nope.”

“Of course not.” Nothing was ever that simple.

“I hate to seem paranoid, but I really think Luke’s behind this.” The youth’s voice wavered as he spoke his tormentor’s name.

“Could also be Colin and Annie’s doing.”

“I guess it’s possible. I just have a gut instinct that it’s him.”

“He’d have to be pretty fucking daft to harass you after the impression Seb left on him.” Moriarty paused, a sly idea springing to mind. “Here’s a thought— why don’t I send Seb to Luke’s apartment so he can do a bit of investigating? We’ll see if there’s any evidence to confirm he’s been stalking you.”

“I’m cool with that. I’d like to know once and for all if my suspicions are correct.”

“Very well, then. I’ll apprise him of the matter shortly.”

“Thank you.” Ian was quiet for a beat, before speaking up again. “Hey, Jim?”

“Yes?”

“I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, so feel free to say ‘no,’ but I was wondering if I might be able to stop by your place tonight? I’m feeling kind of rattled and could use some company.”

“Sure, that’s no problem.” He checked his watch. It was late afternoon, approaching early evening. “We can order takeout for dinner and I’ll show you the twins’ Easter photos.”

“Sounds delightful. I’ll be there within the hour.”

“Splendid. See you soon.”

Once the call was concluded, Jim headed to the nursery. The babies had mostly calmed down after Sebastian laid them in rocking bassinets that featured colorful mobiles for them to focus on. Now the sniper stood tall, dutifully watching over their little ones.

Moriarty snuck up behind him, snaking his arms around the man’s solid, well-built frame. He smiled impishly as his Tiger hummed in response.

“Ian’s alive and dropping by for dinner.”

“The more the merrier.”

“Yes, I only wish the circumstance was less worrying. He’s dealing with his own stalker and doesn’t want to be alone.”

Seb frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Who do we have to kill to make things right?”

The Irishman laughed. “Funny you should say that. I have an assignment for you, related to the issue.”

Moran turned around to meet his husband in the eye. “An assignment? Please, go on.”

“Luke Darrow.”

Sebastian’s expression instantly darkened. He grabbed Jim by the wrist and tugged him into the hall. “What about that bastard?”

“Ian thinks he’s been following him and sending threats in the mail. So I’m instructing you to discreetly search Luke’s apartment for anything that might implicate him in the matter. Understood?”

He nodded. “Yes. I won’t be able to do it tonight, though. Once I see to it that you and Ian are settled in, I’m leaving to survey the damage done to your properties.”

“Oh.” Moriarty hadn’t expected him to have other plans, but in light of recent events, it made sense. “Smart thinking. We’ve got a few more hours of daylight left— best to take advantage.”

“My thoughts exactly. Call me impatient, but I’d rather not wait until tomorrow to find out what the hell happened. I want to see it for myself.”

“Right. I’m interested to know, too.”

The consulting criminal suddenly felt an eerie sensation wash over him. It was something akin to dread, but more ominous. Something…foreboding.

“Jimmy, maybe you should sit down. You’re looking awfully peaked.”  

“Perhaps. The oddest feeling just hit me.”

Concerned, Seb put a hand to his mate’s head. “You don’t have a fever. When was the last time you ate?”

“A while ago. But don’t worry, I’ll be ordering takeout soon.”

“Where from?”

“Probably that Chinese place I like,” he absently replied. His heart wasn’t in the conversation anymore, not after the peculiar sense he’d experienced.

“Sounds good. It’s been ages since I’ve had egg foo young.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated, his mind abuzz. A part of him wanted to demand Seb stay home tonight, but he knew how irrational the notion was. Instead, he would swallow his misgivings and carry on as if nothing were wrong. That was for the best, right? _Right,_ he told himself. It had to be.

*********

After dinner, Sebastian ventured out to check on the sites that had been targeted. Police tape cordoned off what was left of the individual buildings, but even from a distance, it was clear the properties were a loss. He was saddened by the extent of the damages— whole multi-level structures had been gutted, leaving only the occasional support beam standing.

The nature of the incident attracted a lot of attention. It wasn’t merely the authorities who’d taken an interest. News crews were present at many of the five locations, as well as numerous onlookers snapping pictures of the wreckage.

While going incognito amongst the crowds, Seb was able to glean information detailing the events. From what he was told, the explosions occurred shortly after a masked individual hurled something through a window at each location. People nearby reported hearing shattered glass, and then seconds later, the properties abruptly detonated. It was shocking from a bystander’s perspective. None were killed in the blasts, though significant shrapnel and debris went flying.     

There was no official word yet on what caused the buildings to blow up, but Moran had his suspicions. He was almost positive that grenades or Molotov cocktails were used in the proceedings. Colin and Annie once employed the latter to set fire to his and Moriarty’s front room, so it was possible. 

Sebastian reviewed the photos he’d taken to document damages. _Jim’s going to be upset._ The structures sat vacant, but some were being used as extra storage space for items the genius had amassed over the years. Furniture, artwork, literary collections, and more were turned to cinder in their stalkers’ wake.

The sniper slammed the door of his Mercedes as he settled behind the wheel. He was angry— nay, _livid_. How fucking dare someone do this to _his_ omega? Jim deserved respect.   

BZZ. BZZ.

“Speak of the devil.” Moriarty was texting him.

_JM_

_Sebby? You coming home soon? It’s getting dark out._

 

_SM_

_Yes, dear. I just finished up at the final site._

 

_JM_

_Good. Make no pit stops. Come directly to the house._

 

_SM_

_I will. Love you, Magpie._

 

_JM_

_Love you, too._

 

He tucked his phone away and started the car. Things seemed fine at first, but after driving a few blocks, he began to question whether or not another automobile was following him. It was hard to tell— they were making all the same turns as him, but it could’ve been coincidence.

When stopped at a red light, he tried to note as many details about the vehicle and its driver as possible. _Black Volkswagen Passat in decent condition. Driver’s wearing a dark hat and sunglasses even though it’s sundown. Identity undetermined._

There was only one way to truly test if he was being trailed. He’d veer off the main path and take a side road. Most commuters wouldn’t diverge like that; if the Volkswagen did, it would confirm what he was dealing with.

Moran turned…and so did the other car.

“Fuck,” he grumbled under his breath. This was precisely what he didn’t need right now.

He increased his speed and maneuvered down an alley. _Let’s see you follow me now._

The pursuant automobile picked up its pace, continuing to shadow him.

“Son of a bitch.”

Seb maintained his efforts to evade the Volkswagen, darting onto backstreets wherever he could. All the while, his stalker didn’t miss a beat. Their persistence would almost be impressive if it wasn’t so damned annoying.

He thought about switching to a busier roadway, but didn’t want to risk a collision. Having limited options, he decided to shift direction and head towards a wooded area he knew well. With any luck, he could bait the driver out there and then make sure they got lost amid the shrubbery and trees.

Moran eventually reached the stretch of forest, prepared to lead the Volkswagen on a disorientating ride. When he glanced at the rearview mirror, however, he saw nothing besides the dark of the night.

“What the hell?” The vehicle had definitely followed him there, so where was it now? Even the sounds around him fell unnervingly silent.

Close to a minute passed without any change. Sebastian remained in his Mercedes, trying to determine what became of his pursuer. They couldn’t have just disappeared— surely he or she was lurking somewhere.

For a brief moment, he considered getting out of the car and searching the vicinity on foot. He was packing a .44 Magnum and felt confident that he could dispatch of anyone who might be waiting to do him harm. But something stopped him, or rather, _someone_. What Jim had said about exercising caution flooded back to his mind. He needed to act responsibly and not rush into potential danger.

“I should just go home,” he said with a sigh.

The assassin turned his vehicle around, intent on rejoining the main road.

Tomorrow he would scour London’s automotive registry to find out who the black Volkswagen might belong to. He wished he’d gotten a better look at the license plate, but knowing the make and model was a start.

VRRROOOM.

In a flash, the rev of an engine roared. Seb had precious little time to process what was happening as the mystery car came charging up from behind. His Mercedes was hit, propelling it forward into a tree. The airbags deployed, but not before Seb banged his head on the dashboard, knocking him unconscious.

 

 

To Be Continued…    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will happen to Seb? How will Jim react to the news of his accident? And how have Colin and Annie managed to pull all this off? Stay tuned for more.


	117. Tangled Webs & Turning Points – Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim learns of Sebastian’s accident and makes a life-altering decision. Meanwhile, their stalkers assemble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Omegaverse is very freeform. It doesn’t adhere to many of the standard conventions. In my AU, people aren’t driven to criminality on the basis of hormones/pheromones and omegas aren’t subjugated. There is equality and respect between alphas/betas/omegas.

“So when are you going on leave?” Jim asked his friend and employee, Ian. Ever since the young man arrived at his house, they’d taken the opportunity to catch up with one another. Many subjects were discussed, and now the topic had turned to Ian’s impending due date.

“Soon, I imagine. I’ve already cut back on my workload as per doctor’s orders,” he said. “It’s going to feel strange not coming in at all, though.”

“I understand completely. I got put on bedrest fairly early, and it was hell getting used to it. So booooring, I thought I’d go mad from the tedium.”

“How did you cope?” the teen prodded, looking to Moriarty for advice.

“An excellent question. I tried my hand at various hobbies, hoping to find an activity I enjoyed, or at the very least, didn’t outright despise.”

“Is that what led you to start baking?”

“Yes, it was. Knitting, too. I’d never done either of those before, but quickly discovered I had an aptitude for both.”

“Perhaps I’ll attempt something similar. I’ve always wanted to learn calligraphy.”

Jim smiled. “That’s a smashing idea. I have some specialty pens you could borrow.”

RING. RING.

The consulting criminal’s phone chimed. His breathing hitched when he saw that the call was coming from St. Thomas’s Urgent Care Unit. This couldn’t be good.

“Hello?”

“Sir, are you Jim Moran?”

“Actually, it’s—” he stopped, realizing now was not the time to quibble over a name. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Sebastian Moran’s been in an accident and this was the emergency contact listed in his mobile device.”

Moriarty’s heart began to race. “Accident? What kind? Is he okay?”

“I don’t know the specifics, sir. I work at the front desk, so I’m not privy to his status. If you come to St. Thomas’s Hospital, I’m sure the doctors will be able to provide more information.”

“I’m on my way,” he affirmed, rushing to hang up and grab his car keys.

“What’s the matter?” Ian inquired with concern. “Who was in an accident?”

“Seb. I’ve got to see him. Watch the babies while I’m gone.”

“Of course. Let me know how he’s doing, huh?”

“I will.”

At that, the genius sprinted out the door. He was on a mission.

 

 

All the way over, Jim’s mind spiraled into chaos. Something had befallen his Tiger and he had no idea what condition the man was in. Was he conscious? Could he walk? Would he recover, or…

_No! Whatever it is, Sebby has to pull through. I won’t lose him. I refuse._

His hands shook at the wheel as he blew past several red lights and ‘Stop’ signs. He was being reckless as hell, ignoring his own recent words of caution. In that moment, he could think of nothing but his beloved husband. When he found out who was responsible for putting him in the hospital, may god have mercy on their soul, because Moriarty would grant none.

*********

“I must insist that you please lay back down.” An exasperated nurse was trying to get Seb to stay in his bed. It was a losing battle.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got places to be and people who are expecting me.”

“That may be true, but you’ve also sustained a blow to the head. We need to monitor you for concussion.”

“Oh, come on. You think I haven’t been knocked out before? This is _nothing_. It’s a paper cut.”   

“I suggest you take this more seriously, sir. Cranial injuries are no laughing matter.”

He sighed in frustration. “I get that, really, I do. But my partner is going to be worried sick if I don’t come home soon.”

“Too late,” a familiar voice spoke, “he already is.” Jim was standing in the doorway looking unusually disheveled. He’d left home in a hurry, wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes— certainly not his standard attire.

The Irishman made a mad dash to his spouse’s side, hugging him tight.   

“Easy does it, hon. I’m okay.”

“Right, sorry,” he sputtered, a bit embarrassed by his emotional reaction.

“Where are the babies?”

“At home with Ian.” He paused. “Let’s sit and you can tell me what happened.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll give you some privacy,” the medical worker said as she exited the room.

Immediately, Jim scooted as close to Seb as possible, savoring the sight, sound, and scent of him. “I’m so glad you’re ambulatory and alert.”

The sniper flashed a lopsided smile. “Of course I am, Magpie. It was only a minor accident. What did they tell you?” If someone had fed him false information, there’d be hell to pay.

“Nothing, that’s the problem. I received a call stating you were hospitalized, but they couldn’t tell me your condition. In the absence of facts, my mind went to a dark place,” he confessed.

Moran studied his mate’s face, noticing something odd. Jim’s eyes were distinctly red-rimmed. “Kitten, have you been crying?”

“What? No, don’t be daft.” His words were a denial, but his tone lacked conviction, revealing the truth he’d hoped to hide.

Seb clasped the smaller man’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I didn’t mean to scare you, love.”

Moriarty stared at him, their gazes locking intensely. “What happened tonight? When I texted you, you swore you’d come straight home.”

“Yes, and then I was followed.”

“Followed? By whom?” As if he had to ask. These days, it was almost a foregone conclusion that their stalkers were lurking at every turn.

“A black Volkswagen Passat. Don’t know who the driver was, but they shadowed me for quite a while. I tried to lose them several times without success. We ended up in a wooded area where they charged me from behind and my Mercedes hit a tree. I got knocked out and woke up here,” he explained. “I don’t remember the ride over. I think the ‘OnStar’ service must’ve kicked in and notified medical assistance.”

“I knew there was a reason I agreed to subscribe.”

“It certainly proved useful, though I do wonder what became of my car.”

“I imagine they hauled it to the impound lot,” Jim remarked. “We can look into it tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I’d also like to find out who the Volkswagen is registered to. See if it brings us any closer to tracking down Colin and Annie.”

He nodded, squeezing Moran’s hand. “I’ll help with the research. After everything that’s gone on, I’m ready to fucking annihilate those bastards.”

“You and me both. Sending them to hell will be a privilege.”

“Amen.”

Silence settled over the couple as Moriarty continued clinging to Seb. The trauma of the day weighed heavily on him, and he derived a sense of solace from his alpha.

“I shouldn’t have let you go out tonight,” he whispered. “I had a bad feeling about it, but I held my tongue. Dismissed it as folly, and now look what’s happened.”

“Stop right there. I’ll not allow you to blame yourself for other people’s sins.”

“I don’t blame myself, not really. I just…” the genius hesitated, trying his damnedest to remain outwardly collected, when inside, he was a hairsbreadth away from falling apart.

“It’s okay, Jimmy.”

“No, it isn’t. Within the past 24-hours, virtually everyone and everything I hold dear has been targeted— my children, my empire, _you_. No pressure point was left undisturbed,” he said in lament. “I hate it. Hate being made so vulnerable. It’s weak and pathetic and—” 

“Human.”

“Is that what you call it? I’d say it’s something akin to torture.”

“Love certainly can be,” Sebastian asserted. “To open one’s heart completely is painful sometimes.”

“Then why do people do it?”

“You tell me, Magpie.”

For all his complaints, he knew the answer right away. “Because it’s beautiful, too.” His family brought him joy like nothing else.

Moran lifted the hand that was entwined with his own, pressing a kiss to Jim’s knuckles. “It sure is.”

“Oh Tiger,” he uttered softly. “I think this seals it.”

“Seals what, darling?”

“Our future…our fate. Today’s events have given me so much to think about. I can’t live the kind of life that would put you and the babies in constant danger. We’ve got to make a change.”

The gravity of his statement was not lost on Seb. “Are you saying—”

“After we’ve dealt with Colin and Annie, we’re retiring. No more worrying if we’ll make it through the day unharmed. No more assignments that separate us from each other, or goodbyes that could potentially be our last. We’re closing the book on that chapter and starting a new one.”

“If we do this, there’s no going back.”

“That’s what I’m counting on. A clean break.”

It sounded good, but was such a thing possible for men like them? Jim hoped so.    

*********

POP.

The champagne bottle was uncorked and ready to be poured. Well, almost ready.

“Come on, Colin. After everything I’ve done today, I think I deserve a drink. Just fill my damn glass.” Annie was getting mightily impatient.

“I’m not doing it until Katie comes down.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. I don’t see why we have to wait for her.”

“Because this is her house and she’s helped us out tremendously. I’d be a little more grateful if I were you.”

Annie scowled, staring daggers at her brother-in-law. She did that a lot lately.

“What are you so pissed about?” Luke commented. The three of them sat in Katherine Ramsey’s kitchen, preparing to celebrate a day of great success. “We knocked it out of the park today, yet for some reason, your gear seems to be stuck in ‘bitch mode.’ What’s your problem?”

“Nothing,” she spat. 

“Actually, I’d like an answer to that, too,” Colin declared.

“I said ‘nothing.’ Leave it alone.”

“No. You’ll damn well tell me the truth, Annelise.”

She snorted. “You really wanna know?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. I’m ticked off about the games you’re continuing to play.”

“Excuse me?” Colin tersely countered.

“You finally managed to find a backdoor hack into Jim and Seb’s phones so that we can track them via GPS, and what do you have us do with this incredibly useful tool? Menace Moriarty at the mall and give Moran a fender bender. Oh, and in between, make us bust our arses wrecking a few buildings.”

The former army captain glared contemptuously at his cohort. “What, exactly, would you have done differently?”

“I’d have cut the bullshite and killed them. No more dragging it out. They’d be dead and we could move on.”

“Know this, Annelise: Moran must suffer. My work won’t be complete until he’s lost any and all reason to live. Until he’s a hollowed out shell, going through the motions because everything he ever loved is gone. Only then will I allow him the release of death.” 

She peered at the desperate madman, her expression different than it was mere moments before. It carried an air of…pity. “You want to turn him into you.”

Colin had no time to reply as Katherine entered the room, stopping their conversation cold. He put on a most charming smile and eyed the woman up and down. “Don’t you look lovely tonight. Is that a new dress?”

“This old thing?” she coyly spoke, doing a small spin to show off the outfit. “Nah, I’ve had it in my closet for ages. Been a while since I’ve worn it, though.”

“It’s utterly divine.” His words dripped with pseudo-praise that she devoured by the heapful.

“Thank you. I was hoping you’d like it.”

“I should be the one thanking you, my dear.” He turned to pour the perfectly chilled magnum of Moet, handing her a glass. “You were exceptional tonight.”

Katherine blushed. “I simply did as instructed. Followed that prat a few miles and rammed into him but good. It was fun.”   

“I bet.” From what the tracker information revealed, her handiwork was enough to put Moran in the hospital. “Let’s make a toast.”

“What should we drink to?” Luke asked.

“To the decimation of our enemies,” he proclaimed, “and to all of us getting what we so richly deserve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneak Preview: In the next chapter, Jim takes care of Seb after being told to monitor him for concussion.


End file.
